


We Should Have Just Stayed Home

by krbz



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: AU, Additional Warnings Apply, BARRY IS THE BEST DAD, Betrayal, Cheating, Claire comes to visit Chris again guys, Comedy/Tragedy, Dearheart, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Claire/Wesker, F/M, Falling in Love With My Stalker, I am horrible with tags my apologies, Jealousy, M/M, OOC, Rebecca Chambers/William Birkin, Rough Oral Sex, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Sitcom Level Tragic, Slow Burn, Teasing, Using one sibling to get to the other, Warnings May Change, Wesker is obsessed with Chris, more characters as we go along - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23519200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krbz/pseuds/krbz
Summary: *** I do not own or claim anything, I'm just an appreciative fan of Capcom's games, namely Resident Evil/Biohazard***Sometimes it's hard to stop what you're doing, and just appreciate all that's unfolded around you in a single day.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker, Claire Redfield/Albert Wesker, Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Jill Valentine
Comments: 11
Kudos: 29





	1. Omens Ignored

Claire Redfield was finally on Winter break, and preparing to visit with her brother Chris.  
She looked forward to Winter break for several reasons, but 'no school!' was the biggest reason, let's be honest here.  
Claire was a naturally sharp young woman, but a part of her felt like she was just wasting her time away with her face always buried in her textbooks.  
She'd rather just have it her way, face buried in a bacon double Kong burger, hanging out with her older brother and his far more interesting, experienced comrades. Certainly more interesting than the average people her age, which she almost always felt disconnected from. 

Claire was a sort of an 'old soul' type, confined within a young body; she learned and adapted quickly as if she already knew but had suddenly 'unlocked' the information. This made her quite mature for her age, thus effortlessly propelling her ahead of nearly all her peers. Yet, her youthfulness and adventurous nature neatly hid all of these qualities. In short, Claire Redfield is not to be underestimated. 

This coming Tuesday would indeed be special to her, because she'll be accompanying her brother to the Raccoon Police Department for a formal tour of the building, followed by lunch with everyone in the S.T.A.R.S. office. She was especially excited about that last part, for reasons that she herself didn't fully understand. Perhaps it was just her mature side, finding more in common with the older adults.

Claire could appreciate that the building was once an art museum, automatically making the R.P.D. vastly more interesting than any ordinary precinct. It just had this intriguing air of mystery about it. You could even feel it in your bones as you approached the sturdy double doors greeting you at the entrance.

Her curious mind imagined all sorts of scenarios where she could maybe venture through the building unattended, possibly discovering some secret mystery that was lost to time, lost to the hustle and bustle of daily tasks and busy, non-stop police work.

For such a magnificent place that she'd visited many times, Claire had never really spent more than a few minutes at a time waiting either in the lobby of the building, or perusing magazines in the reception area, as she and Chris were usually in a hurry to go on an outing during her sparse visits. Chris may be a little slow to catch on in some areas, but taking care of his sister wasn't one of them. 

Their relationship was close, although Chris was usually always busy so it was up to Claire to make contact. Neither of them really thought about it, but Chris had basically been like more of a father than a sibling for years now, after what happened to their parents.  
There was still plenty of stubborn big brother in there, however.

The day before their outings in the Winter was usually tiresome for her, a long trip transferring on a few buses into Raccoon City always left her feeling stiff and drowsy, but eager for the next day. She never rode her motorcycle out of town during Winter break for safety reasons, and she refused to bother her busy brother for a ride. The buses into Raccoon City this time really weren't so bad, with far fewer weirdos aboard than last time. 

Finally free from the confines of the last bus, she practically skipped away from the station, relieved that her second home sweet home was only a mere two blocks away. Backpack in tow, she already had her spare key out for when she arrived at the doorstep.

After unlocking the door, she yelled "I'm home!" to absolutely no one, as Chris hadn't yet returned. She knew he was pulling a double shift today in preparation for tomorrow. She figured the least she could do was pop a dinner into the microwave for him, since he shouldn't be too much longer at the station. She didn't have to worry about being hungry, because she had stopped in to her favorite Chinese place before departing, called Green Lion Inn. 

She did however, bring an extra order of egg rolls with her for herself, just in case. That, and they're pretty much the only food from the place to survive the bus trip in one piece, as they don't spoil quickly.

Chris never minded eating lukewarm, or even cold food, anyway. He was just happy to have something by the time all was said and done for the day. He was always partial to TV dinners, and Claire could understand why. With all they'd been through in the past, and how busy Chris is now, she couldn't blame him, really. 

It wasn't unusual for the two of them to not even see one another on the evening that she arrived, due to his sometimes late shifts, and her being so tired from traveling.

After placing the TV dinner in the microwave and leaving a note for Chris about it, as well as putting her egg rolls in the fridge, Claire decided to treat herself to the most luxurious of baths in preparation for the big day tomorrow. She adjusted the water temperature just right, and began to take inventory. Blue Borage bubble bath? Check. BioGreen Herbal shampoo and Red Essences conditioner? Check. Actually clean, Chris-free towel? Double-check! Twisting off the cap, she filled it with liquid, and held it under the tub faucet, both creating plenty of bubbles, as well as rinsing the cap clean. 

She sank into the foamy, fragrant water, dreaming of all the next day would have to offer. She recently gave Chris the go-ahead to use her old room as a storage room, as it was much larger than the guest bedroom. She thought about how weird it would be to sleep in there later.

It was supposed to be Chris's office, which he used as such for about four days before relocating, but more like scattering-- all of his work stuff to the kitchen and living room. "It seems like the more space people have the less they use it, haha. Anyway, time to just, soak already." After much relaxation and contemplation, she drained the water from the tub, stood, and turned on the shower to rinse off the bubble bath residue and began to wash her hair.

"I'll wash it so perfectly, no mistakes allowed!" she said to herself as she massaged her scalp thoroughly. She rinsed, face beaming with excitement for tomorrow as she turned the water off. She stepped out, and quickly wrapped up with the towel, shielding herself from the chill of the Winter air. Scampering off toward the guest room, she quietly closed the door. 

Yet--  
If only this picture perfect day she was dreaming of and building up to could have gone as planned. If only they'd payed attention to the warning signs, and just stayed home...

Head suddenly ringing, Claire slowly opened her sleep-encrusted eyes to the sound of what could easily be described as the most annoying alarm clock still currently in existence, before quickly darting out of the covers with fox-like speed to shut the unwelcome noise off.

"God Chris, this thing is from the 80s!" she growled through gritted teeth as she strode over to her favorite dark pink jean shorts and the vest jacket she got from Chris, knocking herself even further awake by stubbing her toes on the edge of the metal roller-style bed frame which was also from the 80s, apparently. 

"That's IT, I'm getting him some new alarm clocks for Christmas, he can just deal!" she exclaimed as she hobbled toward the chair with her neatly placed clothing already laid out on the seat from the night before. "Seriously, why didn't I bring my own alarm clock, stupid Claire..." she mumbled to herself.

After gathering herself, followed by slipping into her most beloved outfit, she slowly opened the bedroom door, and was surprised to see Chris emptying out his duffle bag at the end of the hallway, her face scrunching up as his smelly locker room laundry spilled out into the hamper. It's the kind of waft in the air that you'd have to experience to understand, and Claire was beginning to notice a pattern within the start of her day.

"Thanks, Claire."  
"Uh, ok... For what, Chris?"  
"Duh, for the new alarm clocks you're gonna get me for Christmas, you little goon!" he exclaimed with a creepy, over-exaggerated grin. It was actually quite horrifying to look at, and she hoped he'd never do that again. It reminded her of a GrayStation game box art she'd seen at the local video store. It displayed a military-looking guy holding a strange gun that apparently wasn't even in the game, while he was making an even stranger, yet scary face at a bunch of giant spiders. Yikes.

Claire internally groaned as heat flushed through her cheeks, and was frankly just thankful that she'd said nothing super embarrassing out loud. God forbid her brother ever hear anything relating to her more intimate thoughts, like how cute some guy is, or her emulated conversations with said possible cute wonder-guy that may, or may not exist. Spoiler Alert: He currently doesn't exist. 

Then she realized after what had seemed an eternity, she'd just been standing there with a scowl, awkward as can be, among the stench of dirty gym laundry and her brother's cheesy-cringe expression... "So this is how we greet each other after months? Geez."  
This day was not supposed to go this way, and she hadn't even stepped out of the bedroom doorway yet.

"What's up with you, grumpy? Got some 'girl problems?' Ya know, you don't have to come with me to the station if you're not feeling well, kiddo. I understand. B'uuuuuuuu-t, I did kinda finish up all my extra paperwork for once so we'd have time to goof off around the precinct, so, hmmm."  
"Very mature, Chris. B'uuuuuuuu-t, what's up with you, washing your clothes two weeks too late, hmm?" squinting one eye nearly closed while pinching her nose as she teased him back. Chris only laughed in response as he closed the hamper lid, shielding his sister from the acrid stench that not even he could ignore any longer. 

Claire started to laugh as well, breaking the stagnant tension in the air that this funky morning had brought with it. Not to mention, how DARE he assume she had, what he simply called 'girl problems' just because she wasn't fully awake yet! "Geez, you overgrown skunk-ape," she quietly mumbled under her breath. She then smiled to herself though, because the dreaded 'monthly visit' wasn't due for at least a few more days, thankfully.

Chris made his way to the kitchen, for it was definitely time for some coffee. Claire shuffled her way into the bathroom, ready to fix her hair for the day. "You havin' any coffee, sis?" she heard his voice echo through the hall, but she didn't answer back. She was mulling over how to finally get herself together for the day, and she didn't care much for coffee, especially if it was Chris making it. "Jurassic Tar" she called it, all thick, bitter and just way too strong. Besides, Claire knew she didn't need a caffeine boost after being jarred awake already, and figured she'd have plenty of time to develop that habit later in life. Sodas were her drug of choice anyway. "Okay there grumpster, suit yourself" Chris said as he poured water into the top of the coffee maker. Noting his cigarettes on the kitchen table, he made his way to the living room.

"Soooo, let's see what's up in the outside world today," Chris said aloud while strolling through the room, and lifting the remote control from the coffee table. Turning on the TV, he noticed a weather alert scrolling across the bottom of the screen. "Blizzard warning in effect, huh? No big deal, my Jeep can take it. Suck it, weather."  
Chris had a strange feeling move throughout his body when he said that, something like a deja vu moment, perhaps. Chris wasn't really one for mysticism or contemplating high strangeness, though.  
Shaking the foreign sensation off, he realized he was absolutely famished.

He worked so hard yesterday in preparation for today, that he completely forgot all about the Huang-ry Màn that Claire had prepared for him in the microwave before he returned home last night. "Dammit, what a freakin' waste" he spat out, a little angry at himself. It was the last one, too. Limited edition, Peking Chow Mein. Huang-ry Màn was the number one choice for Chris. Much better than Swansong or Bang!Quiet brand TV dinners in terms of flavor. Chris didn't have any more time to waste on this, so he retrieved his coffee and took a seat in the kitchen. He was at least going to enjoy his coffee and a morning smoke, and that's that. He picked up his pack of Blue Harbinger cigs, and fished his Zippo out of his pocket.

Inspecting herself in the mirror, Claire scoffed with disbelief at the sight of her hair. This bump-wave mess of a thing on one side, as if her hair itself had some horrible, torturous nightmare. Not to mention, one side of her bangs had folded up in a way that was most unflattering. Now she remembered why. She completely forgot to use conditioner after washing her hair last night. "Oh, oh hell no," she ground out as she turned on the water, dampening her hands, and quickly running them through the unruly mess atop her head. "Please let this work." She was hoping for a miracle somewhere, anywhere. It seemed as nothing was going right for the Redfields this morning.

After taking his first sip, it was very apparent that something was wrong here.  
"Guahhh, hwhuh isz-thisth!?" Chris dribbled the remaining coffee in his mouth back out into the cup. Watery, stale, and almost a clear brown, it dawned on him. He'd forgotten to change out the basket in the coffee maker from yesterday morning. "Goddammit, I knew I was forgetting something." Tension began to well up in the back of his neck, stretching up over his scalp and settling between his brows. Chris being Chris, he simply said "Nah." He knew to never sweat the small stuff. Besides, that's what the gas station is for, and the thought made him smile. "Time to change the narrative, I don't have time for this double-brewed bullshit." He said softly to himself, before raising his voice with "Claire, you almost finished up in there? We gotta roll out soon."

"Yeah, just a minute, be right there!" She answered with her lying mouth. It was clear. Her hair was a tragic train wreck. No survivors.  
With only one option left, she pulled it back, brush in hand, combing upwards from the back to get just the right 'bounce' into it, finally sliding the hair tie over from her wrist and affixing it in place. As she placed the brush down on the counter, she was jolted by static electricity.  
"Oh. My. God. No."  
That was all it took, and the shorter hairs on her head stood straight up. Wonderful.  
She ignored it, and grabbed her toothbrush.

An announcement was playing on the news, about clinical trials taking place for a new pain relief drug called 'Adravil' that was showing promise as being one of the best on the market in the future. Chris wondered if he should maybe pick up some medicine at the gas station just in case this day had another headache waiting for him, and decided it was now officially time to get going.  
"I'm gonna warm up the Jeep, Claire. Be right back! Oh, and make sure you have your big ugly coat, we got a blizzard on the way." 

"No way is it ugly, Chris! W-whatever, but okay, I'll be right out!" she called back with toothpaste in the corners of her mouth. The article in question was a very puffy, hot neon pink coat that Claire happened to adore. It was a Christmas present from the Burtons, so she kept it in Raccoon to make sure she could show her appreciation by always wearing it to the police station in the Winter. "Chris, you're so basic" she mumbled to herself before spitting out the minty paste. She turned off the bathroom light, and stepped out, finally ready for what she was sure to still be a great day, despite how it started off. That's what she told herself, anyway. Call it Redfield optimism, although some may mistake it for Redfield stubbornness.

Chris came back inside, dusted with snow and rubbing his hands together from the cold. The snow really was coming down quickly, it appears as if the weather forecast was right for once. Usually what happens is that the local departments report a threat, but it's often nothing major. Chris recalled a conversation he once had with Jill about how she swore it was a marketing ploy conspiracy just to get people to stock up on goods and spend a ton of money. He laughed out loud at the thought, and he couldn't wait to tease his partner about it at the station today. "Hey Claire, don't let me forget to ask Jill if she stocked up for the latest obviously fake weather doomsday report." Claire shut the closet door in the hall, puffy coat in hand, and made her way over to the front door to slip her boots on. "Aww, I love Jill's theories about stuff!" she exclaimed at Chris.

"If you pick on her, I'm gonna tell Barry what you said about my coat."  
"Alright, alright, I'll leave her alone! Besides, the thought of a guy like Burton crying is something I never, ever wanna see" Chris said as he slipped his gloves on. They both laughed, and made their way out to the nicely warmed-up Jeep. "Oh yeah, we're gonna hit the gas station first so think about what you wanna get, Claire." 

Meanwhile, at the Little Arnami Suit gas station...  
The small lot was jam-packed with cars this morning due to the frenzy generated by the impending blizzard.  
Among them was police Chief Brian Irons, who wasn't exactly known for his patience. In fact, he was known and feared for quite the opposite if you knew him personally.  
He had been sitting in his station wagon for well over thirty minutes now, just waiting in line for gas. He kept turning the ignition on and then off after inching forward every few minutes, in an effort to save what little gas he had left. 

The line for gas stretched out of the parking lot, and into the street.  
There wasn't really a such thing as a 'good' morning for the chief, but this one in particular had his blood pressure up. He'd had a wild night at a shady private art club called Big Daddy's Rabbit Boutique and Showroom, and his memory about it was a little hazy. He dropped more cash there than he realized, and he really didn't need some of the things he bought yet as he currently had no proper place to store them. 

This was a huge problem because today was supposed to be the big 'secret check' day, in which he received funding from Annette Birkin to keep the corruption of the department going, as well as some other unsavory things. She had called him earlier this morning to inform him of a temporary issue with the bank, and all he could think about was tracking down the person responsible and dissecting them while they were still alive. Brian always spent well beyond his means, but he really wasn't good with foresight or management.

He was greedy, plain and simple. He had everyone fooled, too. He's technically not rich, because he lacks impulse control. He just puts on a facade, and scrapes by like everyone else. Unbeknownst to Irons, he's a perfect puppet with an expiration date, but he's so stubborn and narcissistic he'll never realize it.

After last night's exploits, he was almost completely tapped out cash-wise. Forgetting to rent an extra storage space yesterday before going to the club was a cumbersome mistake. Today it wasn't going to be possible at all, due to his low funds, lack of time, and this weather. His garage at home was already so full of mostly illegally acquired art pieces and some exotic stuffed creatures, that his car wouldn't fit inside presently. He then realized that he was wearing the clothes he fell asleep in, and there was an odd stain on his shirt. It smelled of stale alcohol, mixed with something he didn't recognize.

He was so trashed last night, he passed out on his couch after a dangerously intoxicated drive home, which of course he didn't fully remember.  
Mad as a stuck bull, the vein in his forehead began to take prominence as he thought of his conversation with Annette again.  
"That bitch. That, BITCH! …BITCH!" He slammed his hands on the steering wheel, and then gripped it tightly with all his strength, and muttered to himself "I should've called her worse than that."

No longer able to keep his composure, Brian just couldn't wait any longer. Not that he truly cared, but he was late to work and had planned to be in early on this particular Tuesday, because he had a side project for the Birkins unwillingly locked up in one of his secret rooms. He turned the ignition, to begin inching and squeezing his way out of the lot, carefully but aggressively. 

He remembered that there are plenty of gas cans at the station anyway. "I, I don't have time to be in this cattle line with these goddamned rubes!" He stepped on the gas once reaching the street, gliding forward, and easing his breaks carefully. He was able to calm down slightly faster knowing that he'd be at the station soon, sealed away in his office with his precious, and frankly unjustified stuffed treasures.

"Whoa, look at all of the cars, Chris!" Claire pointed out as they approached the gas station. "No good. Claire, we're gonna have to pass. Hope the vending machines'll do before lunch, sorry."  
"No way do I wanna go in there anyway, just look at it! Wow... Would there even be anything left to buy, haha?"  
"Actually, I think we're gonna take another detour, too. I don't wanna chance the curves on Stoneycreek Drive during this weather. I'd like us to get to the station in one piece today."

Speaking of the station, there were five S.T.A.R.S. members who always arrived early:  
Captain Albert Wesker, Jill Valentine, and Barry Burton of Alpha Team. As for Bravo Team, there was Captain Enrico Marini, and Richard Aiken, the communications expert who worked closely with both teams. 

"Here ya go, Captain" Jill said as she smiled and placed a fresh cup of black coffee on Wesker's desk, before turning and placing the same on Barry's desk. "Ah, much appreciated, Jill. Oh yes, I must inquire-- you didn't by any chance happen to see our lovely Chief Irons on your little trek from the break room, did you?" Wesker asked Jill, who'd been running all over the place since she arrived earlier. "No Captain, I sure haven't. Sorry. I'll keep an eye out, though." Wesker nodded, and thanked her again as he began organizing the paperwork on his desk. 

"Careful there Jill, you're gonna run that poor new secretary out of a job with all of the errands you're running around here lately, haha! Thanks, kid." said Barry, walking in with a big hearty smile, holding a big pink box of donuts that had a logo of a cartoon donkey wearing a bunch of different hats. Barry always spread a comfy atmosphere around in the cramped S.T.A.R.S. office.  
Barry walked over to his desk, and turned around slowly.  
"Now Jill, where's my fruityfrappa-latte-skinnyskim-nonfat-soyfoam-whip stuff on toppa this thing?" Barry said slowly with a stern voice and a raised eyebrow. Jill was practically doubled over in laughter, red in the face, and clutching her beret before he even finished his sentence. 

Wesker stopped what he was doing, and slowly looked up over the top of his sunglasses, fixing his gaze directly on Barry.  
"Oh, Captain, I uh…" Barry started as he realized that Wesker wasn't in on the joke.  
"I-it's okay Barry, allow me" Jill chimed in, still giggling.  
She proceeded to tell Wesker about when she and Barry had to go into the new trendy StarBuxX coffeehouse down the street last Friday, because their usual place was closed for the day due to a faulty wiring problem. Unfortunately, what was only supposed to be one day, has now turned into five days closed for maintenance.

"So, we were just waiting there in line, when this crazy guy storms up to the counter. Well, turns out, he could somehow detect what he called the 'impurities' of the foam whip stuff in his coffee. "He went into such angry detail to the poor, er, barteesta, it was brutal," Barry added.  
"Haha, they're called 'baristas' Barry! Anyway, this guy must have been a scientist, he kinda looked like one, actually." Jill smiled and nodded, suddenly realizing that the story was actually more strange than comedic.

"That's what I thought too, Jill. Something was really off about that guy, Captain. But for someone who was so angry, he sure looked like a pushover, haha. Looked like he hadn't slept in days, too. I never wanna go back in there again, Jill. All I wanted was some coffee-flavored coffee, ya know? I'll gladly drink the break room coffee forever if it means I never step foot in there again. I mean, doesn't that whiny guy have anything better to do, than harass the ladies at StarbuxX?"

Wesker, for the sake of appearing as though he somewhat cared aside from just having an ulterior motive, lifted an eyebrow, leaned back in his chair, and slowly crossed his arms. "So, tell me more about the appearance of your crazed, 'mad coffee' scientist."  
"He was wearing a white dress shirt, with a red tie, and tan slacks." Jill quickly recalled.  
"Ah, and don't forget his sunken eyes, teenaged haircut, and peach fuzz. Guy was like a forty year old who just hit puberty, ha!" Barry added, while stroking his beard. 

Wesker noticed Richard Aiken slip into the room as Barry was finishing his sentence, while Jill and Barry remained oblivious. Sometimes Wesker wished that Enrico had listened to him, and appointed Richard as an Omni-man, if anything just for his ability to move around as silently as a snake. Wesker played his part with much grace and patience, but he often thought of his 'best of the best' teammates as incompetent children, constantly trying to jam a square block through a circle-shaped hole. 

"Who're we talkin' about, guys?" Richard piped up, quietly setting his gear down under the comm panel.

"No one in particular, Aiken. I was only testing the descriptive abilities of our Jill and Barry here. Although I must admit; they sometimes have quite an amusing, and frankly speaking, somewhat questionable way of expressing blind judgment toward our busy civilians."  
Jill and Barry looked momentarily confused by his statement, then their expressions turned to slightly embarrassed.  
"Relax. It was merely a joke." Wesker adjusted his sunglasses, and made a mental note to make a private phone call as soon as he was able. "Oh, and Richard, has Marini arrived yet?" Wesker asked.  
"Yeah, he's in the lockers right now."  
Wesker simply nodded in reply.

Jill and Barry greeted Richard before returning to their seats, with Jill wondering if their Captain was actually joking, or just being sarcastic. He was incredibly difficult to read in social situations. She did feel a little bad that Wesker was often left out of the inside jokes between the S.T.A.R.S. members, but that wasn't really anyone's fault. She just kind of accepted that Wesker wasn't really interested in their personal lives, and if he was, he would simply ask them. He never beat around the bush, or wasted any time. Actually, she appreciated that he took his position so seriously, and that he wasn't interested in gossip, or the petty dramas that often resulted from within workplaces.  
She thought about how without Wesker's influence, she may be working at that awful StarbuxX down the street instead, given her family background. She contemplated the same in regards to Chris, given his previous problems with authority in the Air Force.

As soon as she finished her thought, Chris strolled into the office.  
"Mornin' team" he greeted while nodding, heading right over to Wesker's desk, but not before being stopped by Jill.  
"Chris, I thought you were bringing Claire with you today, is everything okay?" she asked.  
"Yep, she's down in the break hall with the vending machines. I dunno if you guys noticed, but it's a mess outside! We had to detour, gas station was swamped, and the streets were starting to ice over."  
"Good thing we're all pretty much early birds, eh guys?" Barry replied. "Right. I won't be shocked if we're the only ones here today, haha." Jill added.

"Richard, did you get yourself a donut yet?" Barry asked.  
"Hey, Donkey Donuts, oh my god I LOVE these!" Richard didn't even try to hide his excitement as he helped himself to a bear claw. Everyone but Barry was suppressing a smirk.  
Looking at the box, Wesker removed his sunglasses and studied it.  
"Somethin' wrong, Captain? Richard asked.

"Not particularly, Aiken. I was just wondering when it became the norm to spell 'doughnuts' as d-o-n-u-t-s. Seems a bit lazy and crude, don't you think?  
"You mean that's not how it's spelled?" Richard asked, looking perplexed.  
"Not even close, no. Imagine if we started saying 'Lo' instead of 'though'. For instance, imagine saying something like 'Even lo we lost.' Doesn't that look and sound completely absurd to you?" Wesker stated, looking expectant.  
"B-but Captain, that's not the same thing, Jill spoke up. That's a different word entirely haha, not a spelling. Aww c'mon, they're just donuts... Personally, I prefer Moon's."  
Wesker slightly pursed his lips at Jill's comments, before turning his attention back to Richard, as if he were about to go on an absolute kick regarding the absurd design next.

Everyone became slightly more uncomfortable at their Captain's interrogation of the innocent Donkey Donuts box, and Chris decided it was time to change the narrative for the second time today.  
But before Chris could even address Captain Wesker, an urgent call was coming in from the comm panel. Richard sprang up, half-eaten bear claw hanging out of his mouth, and gladly tapped the inbound key. The second it clicked, he heard a familiar, and quite frantic voice.  
"Albert!? Albert are you there!? AL-BERT!"

Everyone recognized right away that it was Chief Irons.  
Wesker strolled over to the panel, and pressed the outbound key.  
"Wesker here. Chief, what seems to be the trouble?" (I detest it when he addresses me by my first name) Wesker thought as he clenched his jaw in anticipation to Irons' response.  
"Albert I've been in an accident, I need the S.T.A.R.S. right away! I'm on Stoneycreek, wedged into the ditch, the, y-you know, the one by the well!" Irons said hurriedly.  
"I'll notify EMS and the fire department at once, over" Wesker said while twirling his finger at Richard to get to the phone.  
"NO! No ambulance, no hospital, no way! I need you and your team ONLY! No one can know about this. No one, you hear me!"  
Wesker frowned, tension gathering in his forehead as he pressed the outbound key.

"Chief, I'm quite sure that you have your reasons, but we're currently on standby for more serious situations… How severe are your injuries? Over".  
"Albert. I swear to GOD, your ass will be on the line if you don't get your team here within ten minutes. That's a fucking ORDER." The chief spoke in a low, seething, and calculated manner, before adding, "I absolutely will not be seen in this position. I associate with high dignitaries, Albert. People on 'the chain'..."

"Straight away, Chief." Wesker replied dryly. The team was oblivious of what Irons was referring to, but their Captain was not. Little did Irons know, Wesker was vastly higher above Irons on said chain. Wesker smirked as he turned to face his team. "You heard the Chief, let's go!"  
Richard grabbed his bag and headed for the door, but as he reached for the knob, the door was already opening, with Claire on the other side.

"Sis! Hey, we got a situation here, and uh, Captain?" Chris looked to Wesker.  
"Yes, Chris?" Wesker answered in a low tone as he buckled his vest.  
"Well um, could Claire stay in here, in the S.T.A.R.S. office while we're out?" Claire's eyes widened in anticipation, although she was not aware of it.  
"I see no issue with that, Chris. Miss Redfield, always a pleasure." Wesker said as he nodded at Claire whilst turning for the door.  
"Thanks Captain!" exclaimed both Chris and Claire simultaneously, causing Claire to blush having realized what she'd just done. Wesker paused in the doorway, while Jill and Barry smirked at each other.  
"Spastic, spastic stupid freaking idiot Claire!" rang through her head as she cheekily smiled at her brother, having little to no grip on herself as she bared her teeth at him like a perturbed chimpanzee.  
Chris could only laugh in response to such a thing. "You're always copying me, Claire! Besides, you don't want this guy to be your Captain," Chris joked as he lightly jabbed Claire in the arm with his elbow. Everyone could feel that Chris was cringing inside.

Wesker kept a completely deadpan expression, and said to Claire "You're quite welcome my dear, and please sit wherever you wish. Although, you'll find that my chair is the most comfortable." On the inside, he was positively brimming with excitement at the opportunity to make Chris uncomfortable.  
Claire went from pinkish, to beet-reddish cheeks in a flash.  
Wesker loudly cleared his throat.  
"We've got a job to do, let's get moving" Wesker reminded before leaving, and partly to spare Claire from any further embarrassment.

Everyone gathered their equipment and headed for the door, saying their goodbyes to Claire, as well as apologies for the sudden situation.  
Claire must have stood in the same spot for five minutes after their departure before she stopped sweating, and her face returned to a normal hue. Looking around the office, she became curious of what was on, or in the desks of the S.T.A.R.S. team...


	2. Idle Hands Can Save Your Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *corrected some errors I missed. I am writing this on a mobile device, and sometimes autocorrect is incredibly insistent that it's right. *rolls eyes*  
> Thanks for your understanding!

The S.T.A.R.S. team quickly headed down the hallway, bound for the lockers. Captain Marini was sitting on the bench, freshly showered, and tying his boots after putting his training clothes and sneakers away. Enrico always made sure to get at least three pre-shift workouts in a week, getting up an extra two hours earlier than usual on those days. Suddenly, the door opened, with Wesker and the team gathering around him.  
"Marini, we've been called in by Irons and it appears it's non-negotiable." Wesker stated to Enrico, with a somewhat flat yet sarcastic tone.  
"Haha, great. What, did one of his stuffed bobcats get stuck in a tree?" Enrico joked while shaking his head.  
Everyone laughed, except for Wesker.

  
"Actually, he's been in an accident on Stoneycreek, near the well. He's specifically requested that we respond, and I am… reluctant to have to quote this, but-- "That's a fucking order" -- and of course you are aware that we cannot simply deny him, although I understand your attitude and share your sentiments, Captain Marini." Wesker said to Enrico, sporting a wry smile that suggests he's laughing on the inside.

  
"Whoa, is the chief hurt, Wesker? Enrico asked.  
"We'll assess that when we arrive, and I'll need you to contact Miss Chambers, we'll be needing her assistance. The chief has specifically requested no Fire or EMS."  
Enrico raised an eyebrow. "All...right, ya got it, Wesker." Enrico grabbed his tactical backpack, side pack and radio, and they were off.   
Enrico already knew that Rebecca was still at home, as he had contacted her earlier in the morning and told her to either take her time arriving, or call to be picked up due to the conditions. He didn't want her getting injured, because without Rebecca, everyone would suffer. The team would be stopping by at her apartment, and thankfully it was on the way.

  
"Oh and Chris, I am requesting that you escort me via your Jeep. This will give Captain Marini and the team the tactical utility van" Wesker said, while giving Chris an all-knowing yet unseen glance through his sunglasses.  
"Yeah okay. Let's roll, Captain!" Chris was excited at the opportunity to show Captain Wesker his prized Jeep, and what it can do. He respects his Captain and enjoys being chosen to lead important tasks, taking any and all chances to prove himself as reliable. 

Unfortunately for Chris, proving himself to Captain Wesker was going to be far more difficult than he ever imagined, but that was something different altogether.  
The team set out on their journey, with Chris and Wesker headed directly to Chief Irons, and the rest headed for Rebecca's place.  
Wesker opened the already unlocked passenger door to the Jeep, and before he sat down he saw a small set of keys with what looked to be a cutesy keychain, except for the mini western revolver replica dangling from the ring. "Hhm. Clearly belongs to Claire…" he thought to himself before snatching them up and discreetly stuffing them into one of the pockets on his tactical fatigues.  
Chris finished his chat with Enrico and headed over to the driver's side of his Jeep completely unaware that his respectable captain had just stolen his sister's keys...

  
Meanwhile, back in the S.T.A.R.S. office --  
Having realised that she now had the room all to herself, a tingly feeling of excitement began to spread throughout Claire's body, like a child about to sneak through their parents' closet for the first time.  
The S.T.A.R.S. were on their way to leave the building, it was as quiet as can be, and beautiful snow was falling heavily outside. Of course, you couldn't see the snow, given that the office was without windows. "What a fucked up thing," Claire said as she strolled over to Jill's desk.  
She immediately noticed a framed photograph of a dog, looking to be a golden retriever. "Aww, he's really cute! I wonder what his name could be? Chris never told me Jill had a dog... Wait, neither did Jill. Weird."

  
With a somewhat still clammy palm and fingers, Claire reached for the drawer to Jill's desk and carefully slid it open. Past due bills, makeup, skin cream, which had Cyrillic all over it and Claire couldn't read it but was intrigued. "So this is her secret, haha. She really does always look flawless, I gotta ask her what she uses for her skin without making it obvious that I went through her shit. I do mean well, though..." Claire smirked. There really was a reason why everyone thought she'd find herself in trouble if not supervised. Near the skin cream was a strange note, which read: 'I wish to soak into your skin, devotchka. For now this lotion takes my place. --anonymous admirer'  
"What. The. Fuck."  
Does Jill have a secret boyfriend? No, wait. This is probably a STALKER!? Holy shit!"

  
Claire had no idea how to process this information at the moment, but her excitement continued to brew. Jill Valentine was filled with secrets.  
Digging a little deeper, a photograph and postcard were underneath a heavy diary. Claire snatched up the photo and upon realising what it was, her eyes widened. Jill was in the sand on a beach, wearing an incredibly revealing slingshot swimsuit, awkwardly holding up a huge sign with cartoony cutouts of tomato soup cans all over it that read 'SOUP-ER SWEEPSTAKES WINNER: JILL VALENTINE'. Claire's jaw dropped upon gazing at the photo, and she wondered why Jill kept this in her desk, but was glad she did. What a sight it was, and she pondered if anyone else knew about it. She turned over the unused postcard, it was Hawaii!  
"She really won a trip to Hawaii!?" Claire exclaimed, stunned at the revelation.

Then, Claire remembered something important. She recalled a conversation Jill had with Chris at a Burton barbecue a couple years ago, something about sweepstakes in magazines and stuff, like the winners being fake. Jill was so amazing, always trying to get to the bottom of everything. She could probably find Jimmy Hoffa if she was assigned to.  
"Chris, it's to sell your info and send you junk mail!" Jill had exclaimed.  
Chris dared Jill to enter a few, and after she'd downed a couple of beers, she was considering it. She snatched the magazines from Chris, but still with a frown on her face. "Chris, this is just gonna be a waste of time, we could be eating burgers. Burton burgers, Chris. You know they're my favorite?" Chris pushed Jill's purse closer to her in response. Jill rolled her eyes, and grabbed a pen from her purse.

  
"I wanna see every piece of junk mail you get then, haha. Oh, and if you win that riding lawn mower, it's mine." Chris jabbed at Jill.   
"So, how the hell are y'all not married yet?" Forest leaned in between them. "By the way, I'm the one that's got dibs on that mower, Redfield."  
"Piss off, Speyer!" 

  
Claire laughed out loud at the memory and smiled.  
So apparently, Jill had actually won a sweepstakes and just didn't tell anyone? Or perhaps Chris never told her? "So that's why Jill was 'sick' for a week, haha."   
In any case, she would certainly cherish the memory as a secret, and her view of Jill is a little different now. Jill has a stalker, too. Claire wondered if there would ever be an opportunity to discuss these things, but it wasn't likely considering her snooping problem. "This is so fucking nuts, wow. Like, what happens in Season Two, Jill?"

  
Claire carefully placed the photo and postcard back under the diary, taking care to lay the cosmetics and creepy note exactly how they were before. The diary was locked with a key, and Claire wondered where it was. "Probably not getting in here, but damn I'd love to see what's inside after what I just found." She carefully shut the drawer. As she stood up, she saw her brother's desk. "Pass. I've seen his room, I don't need or want to see the inside of that desk. Ugh."

  
Claire headed back towards the comm panel, turning her attention toward a medic bag hanging on the wall. "Rebecca's desk. Oh right, she has two desks. One in here, and one in Mr. Enrico's office..." Claire wondered where Rebecca was, as she didn't appear to have been in the building yet this morning, and hoped she was okay.

  
Same as before, it's drawer time. Inside, was a neatly organized setup of medicine blister packs, with the labels of each medicine written underneath in what Claire thought was the cutest handwriting in existence. She went to pick up one of the medicines, labeled 'DPH-HCI' when suddenly there was a light knock at the door, and it began to open. Claire startled and shut the drawer quickly but quietly as the door was opening. The contents of the drawer were jarred when she did so. "I, I gotta fix that later" she made a mental note.

  
A beautiful woman emerged from the doorway, curly brown hair, and bright eyed. She had a very warm and comforting smile, like she may be an angel in the flesh.  
"Hi there! Claire, sweetie? I'm Madeleine from reception, your brother told me to check up on you on his way out. Is there anything you need? Are you hungry, or…?"  
"Oh hey, nice to meet you, and uh, thanks. Um, sure. I'll have…whatever you're having, haha!?" Claire awkwardly responded to Madeleine.  
"Haha, you got it kiddo. Hope you like pizza and Cherry Koke!" she winked at Claire before delicately closing the door on her way out.   
"Sweet lady, but I'm no kiddo, haha." Claire reopened Rebecca's drawer to fix the mistake she'd made, but...

  
"Ohmygodohmygod. Shit, stupid Claire!"  
The medicines were now out of place, and there was another problem. The blister packs had super long names on the back that Claire didn't understand, and the labels underneath written by Rebecca were abbreviated or just had numbers. Meaning, this drawer is to be understood by a pharmacist or chemist, not a civilian!  
Worry smeared Claire's face, and she felt a pain shoot through her abdomen. She realised pretty quickly that she wouldn't be able to figure this out, and she wasn't exactly one for puzzles in the first place.

  
"Rebecca will see through this, and fix it. I'll tell her that I just, just bumped into her desk! Yeah!" Relieved but not entirely confident in her excuse story, Claire felt like she needed to sit down. She jokingly held her nose as she walked back past her brother's desk, and headed straight for the desk of Captain Wesker.

  
"He did say his chair was the comfiest, so why not?" Something about her brother's captain always intrigued her. Like how there are comedians or artists that never break character, they stay mysterious and true to their persona no matter what, even when caught off guard. But with Wesker, it was different because this was reality, not make-believe. He really was a tough guy, but with near unheard of impeccable manners and taste. Not to mention, those forearms couldn't be ignored.  
She also wondered if she'd ever get to see his eyes, as they were always hidden behind sunglasses, yet another element of intrigue.

  
But, she again had a pang of pain, because that was part of the problem. Every time she took even a slight interest in a guy, it was always someone in her brother's personal jurisdiction. Her own social sphere was so bland, no one grabbed her interest. But when she visited Chris, there was always something or someone exciting around. It was always something that would cause a problem, and it didn't help that she constantly had both Barry and her brother acting as the 'No, no no, you can't do that!' dad types.

She loved them both dearly of course, but she was also a young woman with her own personality, not a 'kiddo' anymore, as Madeleine had innocently referred to her as earlier.   
She would never admit this, but she loved how Wesker chewed Chris out sometimes.   
Wesker could say all the things she wanted to say to Chris, but couldn't. "God, why does his captain have to be so perfect?" 

  
That was something else entirely, Wesker was as perfect as you could get in human form. Sometimes Claire wondered if he was even human at all. For a man in his late thirties, he sure looked younger than any of the guys from her school, it was actually mind blowing.  
She then found herself wondering what a guy like that would ever want with someone like her. She frowned, and headed over to his desk.

  
Claire pulled out Wesker's chair, and took a seat. Heaven. "Sit here? No, I could SLEEP here all day, oh my god this freaking chair!"  
Now she was curious about the Captain's desk. Straight away she noticed there didn't seem to be anything of note in his office, or on top of the desk. Just mundane office things. She did notice an oldschool boombox, and took note of how badass that was.  
The air smelled wonderful too, something like a spicy and sweet woodsy scent. Then, she spotted one of those reed air freshener glass vase things under the desk carefully positioned in the corner at the back, she had no idea how they were called, but she loved it. "Oh, nice. Be sure not to kick that over, haha" she told herself as she prepared to open the desk drawer. 

  
Claire opened it with the utmost care after what had happened with Rebecca's desk.

  
Straight away, there were several notebooks on display that were neatly stacked. Fancy pens were inside of a rolled up leather case, an expensive-looking cologne in an amber glass bottle, some kind of insect encased in clear resin, and a small box with a padlock.  
Then, she noticed that next to the stack of notebooks, there was a tiny booklet poking out, wedged snugly between them and the wall of the drawer. "Jackpot."  
She fished it out carefully, and quickly opened it. 

  
In cursive writing, the first page simply said 'Project Best Men.'  
"What, was he gonna be married or something? Or wait, what if he plans to!? I hope not, I don't need this kind of disappointment right now..."  
Claire develops yet another stomachache, worse than before.  
Continuing on, she flips through the little pages, but something is weird. 

  
"10:06am -- Today he made me proud. He arrived dressed in proper, form-fitting attire, hair groomed evenly, clean shaven. Scent was tolerable. Impressive for his kind."  
"The hell, haha? Wonder who he's talking about, there aren't any names in here at all, just entries."

  
She flips on, spotting an even stranger entry. "I am most certain he's the one I've been waiting for. I long for that day, the day of my utmost victory thus far. I will unveil to him; my most magnificent work, and he will certainly join me in my golden ascension. For he surely must, lest I call upon the power of Neptune."

  
"O...kay. Well this is very fucking interesting, Captain…" She wondered if Captain Wesker was writing a story, or maybe he was a poet. He certainly had a grand way with words on paper, that's for sure. There's no way this isn't fiction, she thought. She found herself mesmerized by the entries, but decided to put the little book back in its place, because surely the sweet Madeleine was going to be here with lunch any minute now.

  
As she went to slide it back where it was, something was now in the way, blocking the booklet from fitting back properly. She slid her fingers deeper, and pulled out a worn-looking envelope.  
"UNcLe AlBeRt" was sloppily written in rainbow colored letters on the front, with hearts and stars drawn all over the front and the back.  
"Aww, he's got a niece? How cute!"

  
The envelope wasn't sealed and Claire began to lift the folded-in tab so she could see what cuteness awaited inside, when suddenly...   
*knock knock knock*  
"Uh oh, Madeleine! Crap, uhm..." Claire cleared her throat really loudly, while quietly dropping the envelope under the desk.  
"Lunchtime Claire! You okay there sweetie, got a little cough? Well now, this should fix you right up."

  
Madeleine set down a nicely stocked tray with pizza, fruit slices, and a bottle of Cherry Koke on Wesker's desk.  
"Oh my gosh, thank you Madeleine! Yeah, it's kinda stuffy in here, actually. Isn't it weird that there aren't windows in here?"  
"You know, you're right. I always thought it to be strange. But dear, if I were you I would take care not to spill anything on Captain Wesker's desk, haha. You may want to move over to your brother's desk, he won't notice if you ruin anything." Madeleine winked, and Claire began to giggle, which turned into an outright cackle.

  
"Finally, someone who gets me, you're the best of the best, Madeleine! Thank you so much for everything, really." Claire smiled.  
"No problem, Claire. You know where I'll be if you need anything else, okay? You enjoy yourself, bon appetit!"

  
Claire suddenly noticed that a dull ache, as well as sweat had formed on her lower back as she watched Madeleine walk away, and carefully close the door behind her.  
"Okay, finally." Claire groaned and relaxed her shoulders, remembering that she needed to pick up the envelope she dropped under the desk and put it in its place. So she scooted back, and that's when she saw it. 

  
"Goodbye Claire, nice knowing you."   
The circumference under, and around the back of the desk was now absolutely coated in fine ground gold glitter, and seemingly endless pieces of rainbow star confetti. That deceptively cute little envelope had been packed to the brim with the stuff, and now it was everywhere.

  
"Do you know what fucked is, Claire? Because that's what you are today. Fucked."  
There was no way, no possible way of cleaning this up without leaving a trace, let alone putting it all back in the envelope. It suddenly dawned on her, that she'd technically broken the law, by searching through the Captain's desk, and she was absolutely going to get caught. There was no way out of this, as the evidence was not only embedded into the floor, but her boots were embedded with glitter as well.  
He was either going to kill her, fire Chris, arrest her, or possibly all three. She preferred he just kill her at this point.  
The pain in her stomach was back again, and that was when she finally realised these weren't normal stomach aches. They were menstrual cramps.

  
She stood up quickly, and to her horror, she had indeed started her period. "It's, it's like six days early. I, I have to, I mean, what do I do!?" She knew she didn't bring any pads or tampons, and didn't spot any in Jill or Rebecca's desk.  
Claire was panicked, and on the verge of tears. She wasn't feeling very flippant anymore, she was actually quite terrified, extremely worried, and she felt certain that Captain Wesker would hate her forever, and that Chris was going to be livid.  
Wesker's chair now had a vibrant, yet dark crimson accent soaked into as well as smeared across the fancy grey cushioned seat.

  
There was to be no mistaking what happened here.   
Upon seeing this, Claire began to sob. "He will never, ever trust you now, you fucking idiot." She lifted the tray of food up off the desk, and carefully carried it out to her brother's desk. Teary-eyed and feeling sickly, she left the office quickly to the locker room down the hall, hoping to find something, anything to clean herself up with, as well as the chair. She was broken right now, but thankful that no one else was around. She wanted to await her inevitable death sentence in peace, but at least try to show that she was deeply sorry by cleaning up the mess she'd made to the best of her ability.

  
There was no denying that it really was a bad day now, and Claire wished she hadn't even visited Chris this Winter, because she felt like she may have just ruined his career. His hot captain? She was convinced that he'd see her as nothing more than a little 'kiddo' forever now. "God Claire, why can't you keep your hands to yourself? I gotta make this right somehow though, so just chill, it's not the end of the world."  
As soon as she stepped through the area, multiple cleaning supplies could be seen under the sink, and some relief managed to sweep through her crazed mind, yet she began to mumble to herself.

  
"Hmm, so I'm basically in the worst scenario of my life, huh? If there were ever a time for the building to catch on fire, damn would this be it. Thank the gods my shorts are dark pink, just, thank the gods."  
Claire spotted a washcloth that was dark red or perhaps burgundy colored, and stuffed it into her back pocket. "I know where this is going, and I don't care." Cleaning items in tow, she stopped off in the locker area to make a few 'adjustments' and then made her way back to the office, with an utterly defeated expression upon her face that she wasn't aware of.

__________________________________

  
Thanks for reading, this is my first story and I'm sorry it took so long to update but things have been crazy lately and I had trouble writing!


	3. Defiance and Donuts

Snow was still falling at a fast pace along the winding, now very icy road of Stoneycreek Drive. It was absolutely gorgeous but there was a subtle energy in the snow-glistened atmosphere that seemed to offer a soft warning among the silent beauty. To Chris, such a sight and feeling was exhilarating now that he knew Claire was safe at the station. To Wesker, it was tense only for the fact that he relied on Chris to drive properly, but aside from that he had his wish of being alone with Chris; his top marksman, and one of his 'best men.'  
Chris carefully eased on and off of the gas pedal to ensure that he and Wesker arrived in one piece, all the while checking every bend as carefully as humanly possible.

"Well Chris, what a day for your lovely sister to have accompanied you into the office. You know, if I were you two I should think that staying at home was the better option. You did very well earn your day off, you know. However, if weren't for that Redfield stubbornness, you and I wouldn't be here together doing our great work, would we? Nor would you be working for me if it weren't for said stubbornness. I'm quite grateful that you came in today Chris, so I thank you." A smile began to form on Wesker's face after a few moments of flat silence from Chris, who appeared to somewhat either take offense or be confused by Wesker's statement, although ultimately the praise at the end allowed him to ignore it, and really it wasn't like Wesker was wrong, exactly. But...why did he refer to Claire as 'lovely?' He shrugged that off too, knowing that Wesker would change his tune so fast if he knew Claire personally...

"I hope you understand what an important asset you are to the S.T.A.R.S. Chris. Without you, the team would be quite lacking, and I--"  
Chris cut his captain off, telling him simply "Say no more, Wesker. It's much appreciated."

Chris smiled at Wesker, but on the inside he began to feel slightly uncomfortable. Chris liked being in the spotlight and all, but not in such a way that his teammates were considered sticks in the mud compared to him. He wasn't one for favoritism, and he detested unfairness in all forms.  
He also noticed that for some reason, when the team was present, Wesker didn't put him up on a pedestal. It was only when the two of them were alone, like right now. Chris recalled other times as well, such as the two of them training in the gym, during showers, grabbing a coffee at Emmy's Diner, but ultimately he figured there was no harm, as long as Wesker wasn't overly praising him in front of the team, he could live with that, being favored in such a way.

"So Wesker, why do you think the chief wants just us to come, I mean, I don't understand why an ambulance won't do. What's up with that? Is he just scared of doctors or something, haha?"

Wesker snapped out of his thought of wondering why Claire was wearing cutoff shorts over black leggings in the Winter, and inhaled deeply before responding, choosing his words carefully.

"I know that you're no doubt aware of the chief's peculiar behavior, in addition to his sometimes brutish disposition. You see Chris, Irons literally throws his weight around, unlike those of us who work for him. At the end of the day, we simply follow his orders, and unfortunately he gets all the praise while we break our backs. This little rescue will be no different, in the sense that we will have to pretend that it's no big deal.  
Not to mention, but you obviously heard how frantic and angry he was over the comm, yes? Right. So you and I are going to go in there and behave as though this is merely business as usual. Oh, and please take care to not ask him any questions, if you wouldn't mind."

Wesker rubbed his gloved finger over the pocket with Claire's keys inside, pondering how exactly he was going to 'return' them later. In such a brief moment of silence, he also thought about William, and the fact that he'd made his persnickety presence known to Jill and Barry at StarbuxX, as there was no doubt about who the 'Mad Coffee Scientist' was. He hated that he'd have to make a private call to Will about it after work, but it couldn't be helped. Wesker was one of the busiest, and most bothered men in Raccoon City, it would seem.

"I got it, Captain. Oh, and hey we're almost there, good we had this chat first in that case, haha."  
Slowly turning around the next bend, it became apparent that this was going to be an interesting experience…  
What lay on display for Chris and Wesker was truly a sight to behold.  
Not only was the chief's car nose down in the ditch, but it was wedged between a tree and another car. In other words, there was no escape for Irons without help. The hatch on the back of his car was creased from the pressure of the tree and other car as well, and Wesker tried his best to fight back a smirk, because he personally found this whole scenario hilarious, especially now that his annoyance from speaking with Irons earlier had diminished.

Now that they were here, they were both alarmed to see that there was another car involved, with two civilians. An important detail that selfish Irons neglected to mention. "Oh my word. Pity." Wesker said lowly.

The driver and passenger of the other car were standing beside the nearby well, their arms crossed for warmth while they waited. They had obviously climbed out of the driver's side of their car. The two cars, judging from first glance of the scene, appeared to have collided and then both slid together along the icy road into the ditch, then being stopped by the tree in such a perfect way that had Irons' car completely trapped. The positioning of the cars was a clear indicator of whose fault the wreck was.  
Chris carefully parked the jeep, then he and Wesker unbuckled their seatbelts in unison. They exited that Jeep ready for the worst, in reference to Irons' tantrum level.

Chris approached the two people standing, and introduced himself as officer Redfield. Wesker made his way to Irons.  
"Is anyone hurt? Are you folks okay? Chris asked the two.  
It was an older man, and a young woman, looking to be the man's daughter. The man spoke up, "Y, yes, we are alright officer, just feeling very cold and shaken up, you understand. But that poor man, we couldn't get him out! We must help him somehow, he is being very loud!"

Now, Chris didn't show it in front of them, but on the inside he was incredibly angry that chief Irons had refused fire and EMS, because there were innocent civilians involved, who have clearly been standing here freezing for some time, and thank god they aren't injured. Unacceptable, what a heartless asshole. Yet, Chris keeps his composure and charming smile.

"Don't you worry about him, that's what we're here for, that guy is actually our boss, so we'll deal with his loudness, don't worry! Uh, are you folks from outta town? Oh, and I want you to come with me, to my Jeep, I've got blankets and the heater is on, we'll get ya taken care of until I can get you a ride and a tow truck." Chris winked and smiled at the somewhat frightened young lady, who then reciprocated a smile, with her eyes becoming cheerful, and expression comforted.

"Oh my goodness, thank you for your kindness, sir!" The father exclaimed.  
"Don't mention it, just follow me." Chris took care to move slowly on the ice to get them to the safety of warmth.  
"So, my name's not just officer Redfield haha, it's Chris. What's yours?"  
"I am called Amrik, and this is my daughter Rashmi. It is so nice to meet you, Chris Redfield. Oh my, you asked before, we are from India, coming to visit family who moved here. But... This man, he was coming right at us, and I could not stop the car. It was very scary but I thank the most high that we are unharmed, and we are so grateful that you were sent here to help."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for, no need to thank me for it. I'm just glad you two are okay, and I'm so sorry you've had to wait so long. Just sit tight, we'll get some help on the way soon."  
Chris made sure they had the blankets in his Jeep, and were comfortable.  
He began repeating in his mind to just keep a calm composure, like how Wesker does 24/7. Although, this day was beginning to wear on him already. The whole morning had just been weird, nothing was going right. His neck became tense, but he breathed in, and relaxed his shoulders.

Chris headed over to Wesker, who had been wrenching the hatch loose on the back of the station wagon. "Chris, grab the other side, and yank down, hard!" Chris grabbed the left side of the hatch, and in an impressive feat, both men took it clean off with their combined strength.  
"THANK GOD, WHERE THE FUCK WHERE YOU!?" Irons barked from down in the console area of the car, like an angry dog trapped in a pit.

"Chief, my apologies, do you have any... way of climbing up to us? We don't exactly plan on coming down there."  
Chris was silent, just totally amazed by Wesker's composure.  
Irons began his ascent, but he was wrapped in his seatbelt, so after rolling around like an enraged seal, he finally wrestled free. He struggled to get up, face beet red, grappling the front seat headrest, then lifting his leg up as high as he could, in an effort to get it over the backseat.  
That's when they all heard it.

The piercing sound of fabric being torn.  
Chief Irons had ripped his pants. There was silence. It was as if all time had stopped.  
Chris turned as white as a ghost.  
Wesker almost broke his jaw from clenching it.  
It was as if because this moment was so tense, and so silent, that Chris and Wesker were able to communicate telepathically. As if, the angry energy from Irons ripping his pants had caused a rift that somehow broke the very laws of time and space.  
Both men suddenly snapped into action, Chris grabbing Irons' leg, Wesker grabbing his arm. They pulled him firmly through all the junk in the way, quickly but carefully up and out of the back, and helped him to his feet, of which, he was missing a loafer.

They both braced themselves for an absolute shitstorm of complaints and insults.  
But Irons was silent, his behind exposed in the cold winter air, barely protected by what appeared to be blindingly neon green boxers.

"Just. Just get me to the station. Now please." Irons muttered, in a defeated tone.  
"Chris, change of plans-- get on your radio, tell Enrico to take everyone back to the station, miss Chambers in tow, of course. I'll make arrangements for the other two as well as get these vehicles processed. Swiftly, now, go."  
Chris nodded, and as the two men began to move, Irons interrupted them. He was pointing at Chris' Jeep.  
"Albert. Albert do you have one of those blankets for me, my, my pants are..."  
Chris chimed in. "Sorry Chief, only have some for Amrik and Rashmi." Chris began making some wild arm gestures. "You know, those nice people from the other car that you fucking HIT, that for some STRAAAAANGE reason, you're just pretending don't exist right now? WHAT THE SHIT, IS WRONG WITH EVERYTHING TODAY!? Stupid, stupid, FUCKING, SNOW! SUCK IT, WEATHERRRRR!"

Chief Irons eyes widened, and he was silent.  
Wesker made sure to form his half smile on the side not facing Irons.

___________________________________________

"Enrico, wait-- where is everyone else? Is it really just us, where is the rest of Bravo today, in bed watching Lifetime movies maybe, haha? Was Forest that scared of a little snowstorm?" Jill jabbed as they approached Rebecca's place.  
"Oh don't you worry Jill, those slackers are gonna make up for it on the track, haha. Maybe afterwards I'll make 'em watch Lifetime movies while they do paperwork, thanks for the torture tip, haha!" Enrico had a hearty laugh like Barry's.  
The whole van erupted in laughter, and when they finally came to a slow halt, and Jill hopped out to head up to the door, she almost slipped and fell. Thankfully her reflexes were always there to save her, and she caught herself in a move so swift that you'd swear she was a professional ice skater in her free time.  
"Not today, bitch-cicle world!" Jill gracefully glided on the icy walkway toward the steps, everyone from the van cheering and clapping.

Inside Rebecca's place, an internet flamewar the size of Mount Mazama was ready to erupt. Rebecca was locked and loaded, about to unleash her vast and best medical knowledge as well as a few insults on a fellow Chemistry BBS user who'd been hounding her for weeks. They always had to show up and negatively reply to every single post she made, as if they'd had it in for her personally, but they didn't even know her! This morning, she finally lost it, and wrote an entire post of retorts that was so long, it could be considered a mini novella.  
They had the rudeness to reply to her previous post with "I wouldn't put you on task to make my coffee at your level, sweetheart. Impurity city. Ha!"  
"I'll show him, I know more about the properties of good coffee than all of Raccoon City, and my posts have nothing to do with coffee, so what is his deal, and why is he so obsessed with coffee!?  
I'll show you mister, …BigWillyb_69!"

Rebecca was the only member of Bravo who had a computer at home, and really, she was the only one who cared. Aside from Wesker, the rest of Bravo and Alpha considered computers to be something you just use at work, basically.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. She became startled, and for some reason she clicked the cursor on the back button instead of clicking 'submit.' Gone. Everything she perfectly typed, just gone. Her eye twitched, and she inhaled deeply through her nose while pursing her lips. Finally, she exhaled, slapped her knees, and slowly stood up in a stiff, threatening manner, showing a side of herself that no one should ever see, unless they were prepared to die, of course.

Rebecca marched for the front door, but somewhat composed herself quickly before turning the knob.  
"Jill! Are you here to pick me up? Great! I gotta get outta here, like now!"  
" …O...kay Becca, let's get on with it, then." Rebecca yanked her coat off of the hook, and grabbed her messenger bag with utter fury, yet all with a cheerful face. It was kind of frightening, but Jill understood somehow, even without context.  
"To the carriage, my lady" Jill said in a horrible fake British accent, gesturing by bowing with her arms directed at the van, and Rebecca started laughing. Jill laughed too, mission accomplished. Jill was excellent at disarming bombs, after all. Human and mechanical alike.

The two women climbed into the van, and Enrico spared no time informing them that they're going back to the station. Richard and Barry greeted Rebecca, when she suddenly, almost borderline frantic, asked Barry if there were any donuts left in the office. "There might be a extra large Unicorn Sprinkle Extravaganza in a box by itself on my desk, hmm..." Barry said in a playful manner, stroking his beard while moving his eyes around. Rebecca's eyes lit up, and she sprang from her seat, hugging Barry tightly in the crowded space of the van.  
"Whoa there, kiddo, haha! It's just a donut."  
"You have no idea what the power of one Unicorn donut can do, Barry! Oh my gosh, thankyouthankyou!"  
Richard casually said "I'm gonna ask Wesker if we can just make Barry the official 'Dad' of RPD. He's clearly got it goin' on in that department."  
Enrico chimed in, "Barry's got it rough, what's that make now, seven little kids total, haha? Richard, you take that to Wesker, he'll do worse to ya than Lifetime movies, I guarantee it."  
The van was once again full of cheerful laughter, and they began their trip back to the station.

___________________________________________

I know, Irons BTFO by Chris, yay!  
What's going to happen to poor Claire when Wesker sees his office?  
Will Rebecca get her revenge on 'BigWillyb_69' ? ; )  
  


This was just a short chapter to hold everyone over, I've been writing more this week, thankfully! If even one person enjoyed themselves while reading this, then I have done my job and it means a lot to me.  
Thanks so much for reading, stay safe and take care of yourselves!


	4. He Can Smell Your Fear

Inside the S.T.A.R.S. office, Claire was carefully scrubbing Captain Wesker's chair cushion, after having done her best to sweep up the absurd amount of glitter and confetti, but Wesker's floor was still a glittery mess. She was never able to locate a vacuum, and was frankly too embarrassed to ask, fearing that she may have to explain why she needed it.

  
It was an utter miracle that no one had come in, and she was so grateful, despite her predicament.   
Unfortunately, the stain wasn't really coming out. She really didn't expect it to, though.  
She just wanted to show everyone that she was truly sorry, even though she'd gone through their things without asking. She never intended to hurt anyone or steal, and she never would. She definitely didn't intend to start her period, which by the way was just plain unfair. That certainly wasn't her fault, but the universe did its best to make sure she felt horrible about it, given the state of Wesker's chair cushion.

It was a truly awful situation and it just looks bad, any way you imagine it. She was hoping nothing would come out of going through anyone else's things, and she was going to keep that to herself, but going through Wesker's things was a guaranteed event of consequence in her mind.

  
She had been reduced to taking off her black top, and tying it around her waist, which meant that she was carting around the place in a bra and her vest. Not the best feeling, being so exposed, but it's better than showing what's going on downstairs right now. She kept trying to get herself in a better state, but really this was not going to be easy, and the uncertainty of the situation was wracking her nerves.

  
She let out a deep sigh, and wiped the sweat from her brow. The loud, ticking clock in Wesker's office made her feel as though it was counting down to her demise.

  
"I'm really looking forward to just going home, so I can cry and be miserable there, instead of here."  
She felt so awful, this was one of the worst periods she'd had in a while too, no doubt made worse by the stresses of the day. She was in disbelief that there wasn't one feminine dispenser somewhere, at least, she couldn't find one. She knew that Madeleine would help her, but she was just too embarrassed at this point, that sweet lady having to deal with her situation was something she just couldn't bring herself to burden her with. 

  
"I really need some medicine or something, ugh."  
She stood up slowly, feeling weak, and suddenly remembered the food that Madeleine had brought earlier. She was so afraid of when the team was coming back, that she swore she wouldn't eat until she was done cleaning, but this was now an emergency. Making sure that she hadn't gotten blood on anything else, she was thankfully in the clear.  
She headed over to Chris' desk where she left the tray, and picked up a slice of pizza. Cold, but it was still going to be delicious.

  
She devoured the first piece like a starved wolf, more swallowing than chewing. The sounds of the ticking clock from inside Wesker's office were drowned out by her feasting.  
She went in for a bite of the second piece, which had become a bit soggy and limp, and the cheese and toppings slid clean off of the slice, and down her vest.   
"I so, so don't give a damn at this point."

  
The door knob began to turn, and Claire's heart raced, but she still crammed the rest of the pizza slice into her mouth, because in her young heart, she truly felt as though this could be her last meal.  
It was Chris, coming in quickly. "Claire! Hey, we got the chief with us, it's kinda an emergency so please don't worry, but he's kinda messed up, so... Wait, are you okay?"

  
"Mmmhrrmmm" Claire did her best to mumble an 'Uh huh' with a mouth full of pizza, although she would have preferred to just scream instead. The look on her face was a dead giveaway, though.  
She swallowed hard. 

  
"Chris, I uh, well, you see, I uh... Okay, started my period. I'm in a lot of pain, and, and, I just wanna say that I love you SO, so much and I'm so grateful for everything you've ever done for me, and, I have to tell you something and please d, don't be upset, or I mean, please try not to be upset, and I'm so sorry, but--" Suddenly, Claire froze. She became absolutely petrified.

  
"Alright chief, this way, here we are. You can have a seat over here at the comm panel." Wesker walked in, holding Irons on the side he was limping on. Chris had an expression of deep concern forming on his face for a moment, he could tell that his sister was serious and very troubled, he recognized the tone and body language right away. He also noticed the pizza mess on Claire's chest, and took his opportunity.

  
"Captain, I gotta step out for a sec, Claire needs some help with something, sorry."  
"Of course, Chris. As you like. I'm just going to get the chief comfortable until Rebecca arrives. Where in the world are they?" Wesker exhaled, shaking his head.

  
Chris took Claire by the arm and they stepped out, heading toward the seats at the end of the hall, next to the vending machine. "So, you wanna tell me what's going on? You seem pretty upset, Claire. Look, you can tell me anything, okay? Let's hear it."

  
"I, I made a big mess. In... In, your captain's office. I spilled something in there, and, and then I made a big mistake and I'm just so sorry, Chris."  
"Oh, is that it?!" Chris rolled his eyes. "Claire, then I'll just get someone to clean it up. Hey, don't worry, I'll go talk to Wesk--"

  
"NO, NO DON'T!" Claire cut him off quickly, but as she did so, the door to the lockers opened.   
Rebecca and Jill walked through. "Chris, Claire! Hey, I heard the chief needs my help, do you know where he is?" Rebecca had a bright smile on her face, she was happy to see Claire.  
Chris gestured toward the S.T.A.R.S. office. "He's in there with captain Wesker, glad you guys are here, he's pretty screwed up." Chris tried not to laugh. "I, I kinda went off on him. Hope I still have a job tomorrow..."

  
"No way!" Jill exclaimed with her eyes widening, Claire's jaw dropped, and Rebecca was gasping at what Chris had just told them. "Chris, do you have a death wish, oh my gosh! Well, you can tell me later, I gotta get to him now. Like, we're supposed to be working, but this is the strangest day. Guys, where IS everyone? Anyway, it's so nice to see you, Claire. Later!" Rebecca noticed the mess on Claire's chest, but didn't have time for questions.

Rebecca briskly made her way to the office, and headed over to Irons.  
"Aww, hi there chief, I'm gonna get you checked out, okay? Do you feel any pain? Show me where, please, carefully." Irons moved his hand over his neck. "I have pain and stiffness here, I, I think it's whiplash! My neck feels like it's too short, Rebecca, and my hip hurts, too. Oh please do something, I can't go to the hospital, please."

  
"Ah, well I think we can do a thing or two for those stiff muscles, chief. You were in a car accident, so your muscles have contracted. I know it hurts, but our bodies do that to protect us, you know. I've got just the thing, one moment. Uh, I know you're the chief, and I won't pry, but if you start to feel worse after three days, or have numbness or tingling you must see a doctor. No excuses!"

  
Rebecca turned her body toward her desk, still facing Irons and opened the drawer without looking. She didn't need to look, because she'd had her entire medicine layout memorized for months now. She considered herself a quickdraw aficionado, and deep down inside of her was a confident, thundering force despite her soft exterior.

  
"I'm just going to get you some muscle relaxers. They're fairly weak, a child's dose, so you can take four.  
That shouldn't slow you down at all, but you'll be relaxed, and you can forget about the pain for a while." She ripped open the blister packet, taking four pills out quickly, and handed them to Irons, giving him an understanding smile.

  
She then grabbed a water bottle out of the pack next to Jill's desk, and gave it to him. "Bottoms up, chief! Feel better soon. I'll be in Captain Enrico's office if you need me, okay? Feel free to call me anytime should you have any questions."  
Rebecca walked over to Barry's desk, nabbing the sparkly unicorn donut box like it was the last ration on earth.

  
"Oh thank you, Rebecca. I'm so fortunate to have such a competent, and professional young officer in the building! Unlike SOME people around here. Albert, what are you doing in there?"  
Wesker was standing behind his desk, observing the absolute mess that surrounded it. There was only one person who was allowed in his office while they were away, and it was Claire.  
"Nothing Chief, just checking my case files. I seem to have a loose end, at the moment." 

  
Wesker knew exactly what had occurred in his now sparkling office while he was away. He had a little snooping deviant on his hands, who appears to be menstruating… and the smile that formed as a result of this revelation caused his chapped lower lip to crack a little. "The poor dear. By the top note of the pheromones she's filled my office with, it would seem she's quite afraid. What an unexpected... and extreme turn on." Wesker was completely enveloped with his thoughts of Claire, and her enticing pheromones. He also admired her completely novice attempts to cover her tracks.  
He was going to cherish this for what little time he'd be allowed to. He closed the door to his office.

  
Jill strolled in, almost bumping into Rebecca on her way out. Jill bowed and gestured her arms like before. "Jill, please don't do the accent, it's not funny. I'm not even kidding! Just don't, ever." Rebecca scoffed.  
Jill slapped Rebecca on the arm, with a sad expression. "Becca, aww...you're a buzzkill."  
"Nope, I'm a lifesaver. Two meanings! Later guys."

  
"That Rebecca sure is something special." Irons said in a yawny voice. He stood up, and stretched carefully.   
"Uh, chief? What happened to your pants?" Jill was eyeing his bright green neon underwear, it wasn't the kind of thing you could ignore anyway.   
"I tore them. I was trying to climb out of the *yaaawn* car, and …they just *yeeeaaaawn* gave...way. Jill, Jill I just feel so tired. My car insurance is, well they're gonna be very pissed. I hit another car, and they're *yawn* they're okay. It's okay, Jill. Your little buddy Chris is suspended, though. I haven't told him yet, perhaps I need to, to do that, before...I, I need a nap, I think?" Irons was becoming very groggy.

  
"Wesker, what the hell!? Never mind, hang on chief. I have something for now. I can't believe no one covered you up, god!"

  
We'll get one thing straight, which is that it's unspoken, but very well known among S.T.A.R.S. that if Irons is around, one must kiss his ass at all times, even at the expense of insulting or blaming another member in their presence. Everyone knows that they don't mean it, everyone understands that around Irons, he's not happy unless something is always someone else's fault.

  
Wesker was rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses from within his office, giving him double protection from being seen. He wasn't rolling his eyes at Jill per se, just the absolute circus that Irons' presence forces them to participate in, like court jesters in competition for the King's approval, basically. Plus, he was in blackmailer's heaven right now, aka 'very busy.' He simply couldn't be bothered.

  
Jill scoffed and headed to her desk, grabbing her white sweater off of the back of her chair. She tied it around Irons' waist to cover his backside.  
"Lookin' stylish, chief! Okay, no one can see, you're all good." (For such a jerk!) Jill was feeling upset for Chris, but hid it nicely.

  
"Oh my, such NICE *groan* ladies, so nice today." Irons spoke in the direction of Wesker's office.  
"Well Jill, w-would...you? Help, ugh, me...to the? W-what the?" Irons was becoming disoriented, and Jill immediately ran to his side, guiding him to her desk. "Come on Irons, sit down over here. Are you okay, what's gotten you so dizzy?" Jill smelled the stale alcohol and something weird, and was suddenly regretting being so close to him. He just reeks, plain and simple.

  
Before Jill could get an answer out of him, he'd gotten back up out of her chair, and was acting strangely. He started heading for the door, limping, somewhat incoherent speech, one shoe missing, and with Jill's sweater swaying on his hips. "W, wait, what is that stain on my sweater!?" Jill thought to herself. It was dark red, like a small smear. "God, he is SO disgusting, and I can't say a fucking word! UGH! That was my favorite sweater...WAS. Bleeding-assed JERK." Jill was yelling inside her mind so loudly, she couldn't hear anything else.

Poor Jill didn't know that Claire had been sitting in her chair previously, and poor Claire didn't know that there was blood on Jill's chair too, because it was black plastic. Luckily for Claire, Jill is roasting Irons in her mind already, putting Claire in the clear on this one, one less thing to make her feel embarrassed today, thankfully!

  
Jill was like brewing lava on the inside, she got that sweater at the Uptown Boutique. A place where she didn't really have the money to be shopping, but that sweater comforted her like no other, big price tag aside. "This. This is what I get for being so nice to Irons, and, he just REEKS, literally and figuratively! I just know that whatever Chris did to piss him off, he was right!"

Jill stood there with her arms crossed, glaring at Wesker's closed door, wishing the two of them could speak freely, but she always made sure not to bother him when the door was shut.  
Wesker was one of the few men that she seriously respected, because he was always reciprocal of her wishes and boundaries.

Irons was wrecked, what medicine did Rebecca give him? If only Claire hadn't knocked Rebecca's medicines out of place, or if Rebecca had just looked in her drawer or checked the packet, this wouldn't be happening. The problem was, that no one knew that had occurred except Claire, who was now getting a startling look at Irons stumbling out of the S.T.A.R.S. office, and toward her and Chris.

  
He was shuffling and groaning down the hallway towards them. The siblings felt like they were watching horror movie night, except it was walking through the screen and right at them.  
"Chief, uhhhh, you okay?" Chris peered at him, and then suddenly, BAM!  
He fell flat on the floor. He was out cold. Jill came out to see what the noise was, and she was standing in the hall, mouth agape. After a few moments, she realized that Irons had in fact, passed out. He actually began to snore!

  
"GOOD, I'm taking my damned sweater back!"  
Jill pulled on it carefully from both sides of Irons' body until the arms unraveled beneath him, but now the arms were all stretched out. Sweater in hand, she bolted past Chris and Claire to the laundry area. Both of them were speechless. 

  
Wesker then came out into the hallway, staring down at Irons' neon green behind. He just shook his head.  
He then looked in the direction of the Redfield siblings, but his eyes were locked on Claire alone. He ran his hand over his beautifully groomed hair, and rested it on his hip.

  
"Ah. There you are, Redfields." 

_________________________

You guys ever had one of those days where everything just goes wrong for everyone? I know I have!  
However, after this point, the story will be taking a more serious turn. We had our jokes and fun, but now Wesker has a new project, Jill is livid, Rebecca has internet revenge on her mind, and Chris is about to have a lot of free time due to his suspension.   
What about poor Claire? She's really wishing they'd just stayed home... The bad luck is fading, and their lives are heading in a more serious direction.  
Stay tuned, and thanks for joining me in this adventure!


	5. My Best Man Might Be a Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Wesker finally have some privacy, and it's just the beginning. Thanks for being patient with the story. Anyone who's ever had a big crush knows-- progress is sometimes slow and painful!

The day was coming to a close, with a surprisingly low amount of calls coming in for the Special Tactics and Rescue Service.   
It seems that the citizens of Raccoon City took the Winter storm warnings to heart, and followed all safety protocols properly. 

  
Even the criminals seem to have taken things seriously, with most incidents requiring only standard RPD officers who handled the day with five-star marks.  
However, certain members of S.T.A.R.S. did quite the opposite, namely Chris Redfield, and Rebecca Chambers. Rebecca's mistake could have been fatal, while Chris' was just going to send him home for two weeks, most likely. Jill's biggest mistake involved a sweater, so everyone should count their blessings on this day.

  
Captain Wesker had broken the news to Chris of his official suspension as per Chief Irons' orders, and apologized to Claire that she had to witness Chief Irons in the exposed state he was in, as well as being present for her brother's suspension.  
Claire was now sitting in reception, pretending to read magazines while being overwhelmed with worry, waiting for Chris. She was making small talk with Madeleine, which gave her some moments of comfort, at least.  
She was wracked with anxiety though. There's no way he didn't see that mess, and especially the ruined chair cushion, so why didn't he say something? Anything!? Her thoughts were racing.

She wondered if maybe he was too polite to say anything, or what if he was going to say it to Chris? Oh my god, what if he's going to come in and arrest me...?   
Her mind was like a tangled plate of spaghetti.  
Her stomach was churning.  
She just wanted to go home.

___________________________________

  
"I personally found what you did to be justified, Chris. Those people in the other car could sue the department for Irons' treatment of the situation, but we both know it wouldn't lead anywhere. Irons is, well... I need not say any more. Your suspension is not my decision, I hope you know. I'm deeply apologetic that your day off with your dear sister has been ruined, and because of the Chief and his chaotic behavior, you're now going to be catching up on a lot of paperwork from home. You shouldn't have said that to him, but...I'm not going to say that you were wrong to have done so, either." 

  
Wesker smiled at Chris. In a rare moment, he removed his sunglasses, and looked directly into Chris's eyes. He began to speak softly.

  
"I want you to know, that I'm proud of you, Chris. Your defiance, and desire for justice has always captured my heart, truly." He placed his sunglasses back on firmly, and his face became stern.  
Chris was a little confused by Wesker's tone, but was honestly just grateful that his captain wasn't slamming the hammer down on him. Just a light tap, that will do. That he can live with. That will still pay the bills.  
"I really appreciate this, Wesker. I'm, I'm sorry I overreacted though. But hey, is Rebecca gonna be okay? She must feel horrible right now, with what happened to the Chief..."

  
"Miss Chambers will be just fine, Chris. She's still learning, and sometimes that's not easy, but she's a tough young woman. We'll all support her, yes? Right. As for you, I'll collect the necessary assignments for the week by the end of the day, and bring them to your residence myself later this evening. You may go, and oh-- please tell your sister that I would like to have a word with her. Of course, if that's all right with you? I think I may have a career opportunity for her to consider, if she's interested, that is."  
"Uh...yeah, sure Wesker. I'll go get her. Thanks again."  
Chris knew that he couldn't ask questions here, he was getting off pretty easy. Plus, Wesker had just praised him, and beggars can't be choosers. He wondered what his captain wanted with his clumsy sister, though.

  
Chris made his way to reception to retrieve Claire.  
She was gripping a magazine tightly, rolling it up nervously in and out.  
"Heyyyyy, pizza face! I think it's about time to go, but first, and you're probably gonna laugh, but Captain Wesker wants to talk to you about a 'career opportunity'…"  
Her eyes were suddenly drained of all light, no response.

  
"I know Claire, I know, but please. Please? Look, he just let me off the hook, Claire. It'll be like five minutes, tops."  
This was it. Claire knew her time had come, but then she suddenly remembered that she really needed to play it cool here. Chris clearly had no idea what was going on, so she shook her head, and stepped up to bat like a true Redfield.  
Plus, she never wanted to get Chris in trouble for her own mischief in the first place. It was time to clear her mind, and just do the right thing.

  
"Wow, really? Me? I mean, you know I'm gonna say no, but uh, I'm flattered and all… Look, I, I got this, bro. You warm up the Jeep, I'll be out soon, 'kay?" Claire had a nervous smile, but Chris assumes it's just because Wesker can be intimidating, because he usually is.  
"You got it, sis. Hey, uh, thanks for doing this, humoring Wesker. I don't know what happened, but he's strangely in a great mood today, and, I'm sorry this wasn't the best day, but I'll make it up to you, promise! Thanks again sis, see ya soon. Oh, and we're doing a movie tonight, your pick!"  
Chris walked away, and Claire took a deep breath. She grasped at her big coat, and held it close.

  
She stood up, said her goodbyes, and again gave thanks to Madeleine before heading out, walking rather briskly to the other side of the building, and through the library. Inside, she saw a lone Brad Vickers sitting at a table, tapping a pen and looking stressed. 

  
"Oh, Brad! Hey, you okay man?"  
Brad has a massive stack of paperwork laid out in front of him. "C-Claire? Hi there! Yeah. I mean, I wish I was doing better. N-no, I meant I'm great! Yeah. Just great."  
"Good to hear, always nice to see you, later!" Claire fought back a smirk, because she's heard some hilarious stories from Jill about Brad and his tendency to wuss out in the field, though he tries his best to make up for it. "Chickenheart" they call him. Poor Brad... Plus, he always acted nervous around Claire anyway. He thought she was cute but had no plans to actually tell her, since her brother is top marksman. It's just not a good idea, he thought.  
"Y-yeah you too, later Claire!"

  
Moving along, she made her way past the impressive unicorn statue, and headed through the door.   
"Time to hit the hall of doom. I wonder if he's already got his handcuffs out, waiting for me."   
Claire began to suffer from heavy perspiration, which is not ideal when you're wearing only a vest...and you suddenly remembered that you forgot deodorant this morning. "Just own it-- you're only human, Claire. You can't change it." she mumbled to herself. There she was, in front of the office, after a very long and stressful day. She reached for the handle, turned it gently, and quietly opened the door.

  
Captain Wesker's door was wide open, and he was at his desk, writing. Without even moving his head, he looked up over the rims of his sunglasses at her. His eyes were intense, but surprisingly this didn't have the effect of intimidation upon Claire. No, she was experiencing something quite different here. She saw sharp, experienced, and incredibly knowledgeable eyes locking with hers, seemingly beckoning for her to come forward, and get a closer look. She also saw in his eyes, something of a knowing determination, and that made her feel hot all over, with a hint of electricity, like she could step right out of her body if she took another step. No matter what the circumstances were, this man was an absolute work of perfection not just in appearance, but his presence and character as well. She thought these kinds of guys were limited to just appearing in movies, but she had the real thing mere feet away from her, and without her brother or Barry around for once...

  
She suddenly felt no fear at all, it was the strangest thing. "Miss Redfield, always such a pleasure. Please, do come in. Close the door behind you, if you wouldn't mind."  
She did exactly as she was asked. Her pulse was now leveling out, and by the time she closed his door, she was honestly ready for whatever may happen. She finally loosened the tight grip she'd had on her coat. She realized this was not a mundane, predictable scenario anymore.

  
"I know your brother is waiting, and that you desperately need to return home, so I'll just get right to the point."  
He opened his desk drawer, pulled out and placed the little box with a padlock on his desk in front of her. He then reached into his pocket, and pulled out Claire's keys, dangling them from one finger.  
Her eyes widened when she realized those were her keys.

  
"It seems that you've taken quite an interest in my private life, my dear. I shall return the sentiment, by becoming very invested in yours as well. It's only fair, after all. I was going to offer you a job as a custodian, but it seems that you aren't very skilled at cleaning up messes, are you?" He chuckled lightly. "However, it's really not about the mess itself, but rather the effort you've put forth to hide it. You've certainly gotten my attention now, Claire."  
Wesker stood up, and began moving around his desk, toward Claire. He continued speaking as he moved around her within the tight confines of his office.

  
"You knew that there was absolutely no hiding in regards to my noticing your mischief in my office, and honestly, you could have just left with Chris and forgotten all about it, I'd have never said a word. Yes, truly. Not a word. But here you are. You're here because you crave something bigger. I know exactly what you want, because I just so happen to want the very same thing, dear."  
If suspense could kill, Claire was about to find out.

  
He moved behind her, softly sliding his gloved hand up her shoulder blade, then suddenly forming a tight grip over her upper arm.  
"Trust."  
She felt his hot breath on her ear from behind, and it sent her nerve endings into outer space and back. If this is what trust with Wesker feels like, she was ready to fall backwards and be caught by him right this instant!

  
Claire was silent, and she felt an unfamiliar feeling rush through her wrists. She had nothing to say at the moment, because he was absolutely right, in her mind. She didn't just hear his words, she felt them. She nodded, looking shy and somewhat embarrassed still, but here she was holding her own, one on one, up close and personal with the feared and respected police captain of the S.T.A.R.S.  
Covered in pizza sauce, menstruating, frizzy haired, sweaty and smelling like a Philly cheese steak. None of this actually mattered to Wesker, but he indeed knew she was feeling incredibly insecure and fearful today. 

  
That is, before stepping into his office and actually engaging him, anyway. He very well understood that he didn't need to scare or threaten Claire, as she was already in that state, she'd put herself there. Why blackmail someone when you can just rescue them from their own fears instead? He so loved the pungent aroma of her particular fear, but he was also never one for gluttony. He smelled nothing but acceptance coming from her now. Acceptance is a beautiful gift, that keeps on giving when tended to properly.  
He was pleased with the outcome, of which he knew he'd already claimed victory over.  
He let go of her arm, and stood next to her.

  
Wesker smiled at her, and pulled out his own set of keys. He removed a small key from his own keyring, and placed it next to the box on his desk.  
"Take them. Put these in your coat pocket, hide them in your room, and under no circumstances are you open this box. Are we clear?"  
"Y-yes captain Wesker, of course."  
"Good. Because I'll be taking something with me as well, Claire. Remove your house key from your keyring, and hand it over to me. You will tell your brother that you simply lost it, should he inquire."  
Wesker took her hand, and dropped her keys into it, running his index finger along the side of her hand as he pulled his away.

  
She said nothing, and quickly removed her house key, handing it directly to Wesker.   
"Surely you see how simple trust and instinct can be now? You cannot let petty fears, or doubts get in the way of true trust, Claire. We'll be seeing one another again very soon, my dear. Run along to Chris, make yourself comfortable at home, know that I am indeed pleased, and that I graciously accept our new game of trust. A normal man would have thrown the book at you, but as you are now fully aware, I am not a normal man." His smile was on a line somewhere between enchanting and deadly.

  
Claire's voice cracked a little when she spoke, she was incredibly thirsty now. "I-I know that. Thanks Wesker, thank you for giving me a chance. I'm really grateful, and, I won't say anything to Chris. I'll tell him you offered me an apprentice job, and I said thanks, b-but will consider it in the future just to play nice with you? Is that a good enough excuse? I mean, and of course I'll play it off like there's no way I ever would, so..."

  
"Perfect, my dear. You're quite welcome, but you needn't thank me so profusely… just yet."   
Claire was getting her brains charmed out right now, and she already wanted more.  
"Uhm, Wesker? W-what's that lovely scent, the thing, that vase thing under your desk?"  
"Ah. That would be vetiver and oak, dear. I have a cologne with a similar profile, although it's far more sophisticated than a simple air freshener."  
Wesker again went to his desk, and pulled out the fancy amber bottle of cologne from the drawer. "Take it. You can be reminded of me, any time you wish."  
Claire became incredibly excited by this, because it was a truly unique scent, worn by a truly unique man.   
Again, he reminded her to keep it hidden, as he could see that she was overwhelmed with excitement. It made him feel good. It was something he wasn't exactly used to feeling when in the company of the opposite sex.

"Run along now, Claire."

  
Claire smiled and lightly waved at him, while stepping out of the office. She felt like a completely new person, her own person. She confidently walked all the way through the RPD, and down to the parking lot. She and Chris began their journey home. It was time for a long shower, and a makeover.

  
Wesker on the other hand, was dialing William Birkin on the phone. It went straight to voicemail, as usual.  
"Yes, it's Wesker, and yes, you've got some explaining to do. Meet me at the dive out of town, 11pm sharp."  
He slammed the phone down hard enough to make sure it shocked Will when he listened to it later. Perhaps he wasn't done smelling fear yet after all, because William would be filling the bar with it like he was a bouquet of pure fear roses later. "He can take his picky coffee preferences straight to hell. If they ever find out we're connected somehow, I'm fucked. Now, to address Enrico about that bumbling fool Irons..."

  
___________________________________

  
Upon inspection of the small garbage can under Rebecca's desk, it was discovered that she had unknowingly given Irons four maximum strength adult doses of Diphenhydramine; an antihistamine drug, commonly sold over the counter and sometimes used as a sleep aid, but it's incredibly potent in large doses. One can experience an array of unpleasant side effects from just half of the dose Rebecca had administered. Irons was completely out of his mind, experiencing full blown delirium, hallucinations, and judging from the time the medicine was given to him, he had about three or four hours to go. After that he was just going to feel terrible for a while. 

  
Irons was taken to Raccoon General Hospital, to be monitored during his overdose. The damage had already been done, so he was riding out the worst of it. He was conscious, but even more unpleasant than usual.  
"Boss, ain't you gonna eat your crackers? C'mon man, you need somethin' in your stomach."  
"No Forest, I 'ain't gonna' eat them...why don't you stuff them down your gullet, and shut the hell up already."

  
Forest decided that for once, he'd hold all questions until the end of the ride...  
He'd made it to the RPD just in time to see Irons being loaded into an ambulance, so he volunteered to go with the Chief. Irons had no one to come see him, no one else but Forest tagging along would have been a good choice, given that Chris and Rebecca were being suspended. Jill went home early, she told Wesker she was feeling 'sick' but wasn't honest about why. Wesker knew, but he's been known to sympathize more often than not with Jill's predicaments. Barry headed home early as well, his daughter Polly had a fever, and had been crying for her daddy, according to numerous messages left by his wife. Wesker again sympathized, as he frequently dealt with something similar elsewhere…  
Forest was a rock when it came to dealing with Irons, though. Enrico once asked him what his secret was.  
"Ya just gotta...pretend you're dealin' with a bratty little kid trapped up inside an adult's body."

  
Speaking of secrets, of which there are apparently a lot of in the sphere of the RPD this week:  
Irons never did make it to his secret room that morning. He never got a chance to feed his little project that he brought in from Annette and William, a cross-bred and 'enhanced' hybrid species animal. It was a strange combination; an anteater crossed with a Madagascar cockroach. He was more animal than insect though. A furry, skittering little thing with a long snout, that looked like something out of a fairy tale book, and could easily be mistaken as a children's toy.  
He wasn't what the Birkins were looking for long term as he was merely an experiment to test the effectiveness of their methods, but he was relatively harmless, and Irons offered to take him as a pet and monitor his progress. Unfortunately, he also had plans to make him part of his taxidermy collection in the future.

Small, but he was just a baby after all. He really didn't like his cage, and appeared to be aware that being held against his will was wrong. He apparently understood captivity, and he just wanted to go home, too. He knew that 'home' was outside...  
He must be getting pretty hungry by now...

____________________________________

  
Thank you so much for reading this story. I hope it was entertaining, and thankfully now we know that Claire's suffering really will pay off!  
It will pay off, right? You can't blackmail the willing, after all...  
Stay tuned. Take care of yourselves please!


	6. Blessings of Time and Space

*** Just a short something to update with, didn't want to leave anyone hanging. Been SUPER busy but I won't forget my readers no matter what happens. Hope you enjoy and are well! ***

Chris carefully navigated the icy roads after leaving the RPD parking lot, passing by a snow plow that was going in the opposite direction.  
He still felt somewhat disappointed for losing control of his words towards Irons today, but he was also grateful that he still had a job, and that this day was finally drawing to a close. Who could've possibly imagined that Rebecca would give him the wrong medicine, or that he ripped his pants, or that he basically proved he had no regard for human life-- and all in one day? Irons was a piece of work, and Chris was so grateful that he didn't have to sit in an office with him all day. He appreciated Wesker immensely right now, probably more than ever, and was thanking the heavens that he was in a weird but favorable mood today.

It turns out that that Wesker really does have a genuine soft spot for Chris, and he's not really certain what he feels about that at the moment. Sometimes Wesker's behavior just doesn't make sense to him, but somehow everything ends up being fine, too. He can't really find the words in his mind for how Wesker leaves him feeling at the end of the day, sometimes. It really doesn't matter, because Chris knows that it'll be like nothing ever happened the next day, but today was really strange. He's never experienced Wesker behaving so nonchalantly toward him in light of so many things going haywire in one single day.  
Chris could ultimately only rule that this day was to be remembered, at the very least.

Claire on the other hand-- despite causing a small whirlwind of life-altering chaos today, was feeling excited, but still slightly anxious, topped with a touch of conflicted. Her mind began processing the situation she was now a part of, and what it meant, especially if it ever came to light.  
A big secret, a sudden 'pact' with her brother's boss, police captain of S.T.A.R.S.--?!  
She then wondered what her brother would think if she one day casually mentioned that she was going out with his boss, even as acquaintances.

"Yeah oh hey Chris, I'm going on a hot, sophisticated date with Wesker, your boss? Yep, later bro!"  
'Sophisticated…' She thought. That word made her feel uncomfortable, as she felt she was anything but. What about Jill, Barry, or Rebecca? Brad, he would definitely be heartbroken. Heartbroken, and utterly terrified. The mean thought actually kind of excited Claire, but then it wouldn't be a secret anymore, and she'd most likely have a new set of incredibly awkward problems to deal with. Still, being seen together with a man like that, must be like launching figurative daggers into the hearts of all who would dare look upon them, she imagined. That kind of power was quickly becoming enticing to Claire, especially when she compared it to those boring, immature guys back at her school, who probably wouldn't offer her anything but a laundry list of disappointments. What if her friends saw her with him? She already knew they'd be jealous, naturally.

She was young, but not as foolish as most of her peers, from what she'd personally observed. Claire had a knack for choosing her mistakes carefully, you could say. Unfortunately, on this day she had gotten ahead of herself.

She knew she had one friend back home who'd understand though, and eventually she'd spill the beans to her about Wesker. Stephanie was the type who got mixed up with an older guy too, but he's not exactly classy like Wesker, not at all... Stephanie is currently about six months pregnant, and close to dropping out of school because of it. Claire thought about giving her a call soon to see how she's doing, as she didn't really have anyone else in her life, the poor girl. Her boyfriend is currently nowhere to be seen, unfortunately. Claire never liked him, but Stephanie wasn't having Claire's protests about it. If only she'd just listened to me, Claire painfully remembered... Claire shook the thought from her mind, this was a bad time to think about Stephanie.

Claire's situation was completely different, but in a way it could end up being a nightmare, much worse than Steph's if things get out of hand. Claire then thought about the comforting fact that Wesker was an experienced, very responsible, and not to mention -- an almost unbelievably built man, and her worry subsided once again.

Claire was actually pretty great at reading people's general vibes, and let's just say no one thus far has significantly 'pinged' on her radar as a love interest. No one but captain Wesker, that is. Suddenly this intriguing, fascinating man had become a part of her life, and it dawned on her that she kind of didn't actually have a choice, really. For a moment, she felt strange about that, but then remembered that she really would have done anything to not get busted, or ruin her brother's career. The two of them had to work so hard to get where they are in life, and all while being alone. So what if she'd had to do something like choke on Captain Wesker's dick in his office? The thought of him forcing her down on him at this point certainly wouldn't bother her, that's for sure. She was grateful too, because what if it had been Mr. Irons that she was in trouble with? Claire was certain she'd never counted so many blessings in a single day, definitely. She could honestly appreciate this day, and will mark it as the beginning of a big chapter in her life.

When Wesker had moved in close to her earlier, she could smell him; a most masculine scent. It hit her in such a way that screamed to her usually buried feminine senses, igniting a new fire inside the very core of her being. A real man. Her body was screaming to be handled by an absolute god-tier wonder guy like this, something she now had confirmation for: He does in fact exist, but he's going to have to exist in her world secretly.

She stared out the window, daydreaming about Wesker unzipping his pants in his office, releasing his large package from within its tight, pheromone-drenched confines, while silently watching her get down on her knees, and gripping onto his wide, muscular thighs -- when suddenly she began slightly frowning at her little simulations of how any of this was going to work, pondering what everyone would think, and again she suddenly wondered what Wesker wanted with her, a mere 'commoner.'  
She was a master of ruining her own fantasies, apparently.

But this was a unique man that she felt was worth knowing, worth the risks getting involved with, and she knew there had to be a way to make it work. She has a life too, and it's hers to make choices and fight her own battles with, approval from others not always necessary, wanted, or needed. She'd made herself uncomfortable by fantasizing about her brother's boss, all while sitting next to him in his Jeep. Still, she was only human. Chris was being silent anyway, and she knew that when he was like that, it's best to just leave him be. He had a strange day too, after all.

She wasn't exactly ready to shatter her relationship with Chris either, as clearly there was enough going on right now, and thank goodness he was completely oblivious to it. No matter how she looked at it, there was zero chance of Chris being accepting of this, period. She then thought about Jill, and her secrets. This granted Claire a playful smirk, and she felt at ease again.  
If Jill could keep that many secrets, why couldn't Claire?

She glanced at her face in the rearview side mirror. Hair a mess, pizza sauce in the corner of her mouth. She pulled the hair tie out from her ponytail, and brushed her hair with her fingers. She rubbed the sauce away from the corner of her mouth. That's when it hit her; Wesker didn't mention or focus on a single one of her outward flaws today. Not one. Her eyes lit up, and her body felt lighter, further relaxing her. He really is a unique man, and she wanted nothing more than to just get home already so she can continue daydreaming about him. She wanted to smell his cologne, too. She couldn't believe he just gave it to her like that, and the little box, too. She wouldn't dare open it, and risk losing Wesker's trust. She was feeling ready for this challenge, whatever it was.

It was strange, but it was her kind of strange. If anyone else had put her in that situation, she'd have clocked them straight into the wall. But with Wesker, she could visualize him trapping her against the wall, telling her to 'spread them' police style.  
She really, really needed to get out of this Jeep now, that's enough fantasies while sitting right next to Chris…

It was a complicated situation, and it hasn't even officially kicked off yet.

________________________

Back in the S.T.A.R.S. office, Wesker was gathering the proper weekly assignments for Chris, as he now has to make two stops this evening. First to Chris, and then out of town and on to William. He thought about if he'd get to see Claire again this evening, not that he'd be able to say anything, but something about her presence drew him in, and he wanted to see how she would behave now with Chris around. Just seeing her in her natural habitat would suffice for him after their moment earlier. She really wasn't a typical young woman, and that played a part in his interest of course, but there was something else. She didn't offer any resistance to him during their encounter, and yet, he felt as though she could probably put up a decent fight, should he push her. It was an amusing thought to him.

Something about squaring off against people that you've trained yourself was incredibly thrilling to him, and when he actually had time to daydream, he often imagined such scenarios. If he was really lucky with free time, he would practice something called 'Maranassati' -- a meditation that would simulate death of the physical body to the point of having an unshakeable willpower against fear when presented with the threat of death, or even during dying itself. It was a secret practice of his, that not even William knew about.  
He knew William would just say something like "Oh Albert please, that's just such a bunch'a new-aged bullshit! Come on, we still have more work to do, and I want coffee..."  
Such was William, but Wesker liked that they were so different despite having similar goals. Wesker imagined a carbon copy of himself would be quite boring. He never let on, but he found it somewhat endearing that Will liked him enough to pester him constantly.

The people around Wesker had absolutely no idea what kind of person he really was, but each and every one of them were always aware that there was something, deep down. Reasons that he was able to operate the way he did on a daily basis, to the point of some wondering how it was possible at all.  
Looks aren't everything, but generally most people as busy as Albert Wesker couldn't possibly keep themselves up in the way he could, especially while juggling two different lives, each incredibly stressful in their own ways. It didn't leave much room for anything on the side, so he enjoyed the sparse surprise challenges here and there. Getting involved with Claire was an interesting game to him, although he somewhat felt as though he was cheating, since she was completely willing.

He took a brief moment to lean back in his chair, and breathe.  
Sometimes it's nice to take a break, and just feel alive.  
He smiled, stood up, and gathered his things.  
Feeling surprised and for the first time, in a long time-- excited.

"I do hope to see you at the play's end, my dear."

___________  
Thanks for reading!  


See you next time, and take care.


	7. Hotmail Me Sometime

***Warning***  
M/M contact in this chapter, non-explicit   
___________________________

  
Jill flung her sweater into her bathroom with the force of an over-stressed slingshot. She actually pulled a muscle in her forearm from the fury unleashed.  
She was absolutely frazzled because of Irons for a plethora of reasons, but somehow her sweater was at the top of the list, and that finally broke the bough.

  
"That asshole!"  
Jill moved over to her fridge, seeing the sunglasses sticker on it. Most people don't keep a reminder of their boss on their refrigerator, but Jill wasn't most people.  
"Oh my god! Wesker, how in the fuck do you deal with that loser!? Every. Single. Day? Augghhh!"  
She opened the door, and went for the wine, placing it on the kitchen table.

  
She then sat down on her bed, and untied her boots, kicking them off.  
She grabbed her old chewed up nightshirt off of her pillow. Pulling off her gear, she noticed the answering machine light was blinking. She stood up, wiggled and kicked out of her pants while pulling her favorite old nightshirt on.

"This had better be damned good, because I am so done with today."  
Strolling over to the machine, she suddenly felt like someone was watching her. Jill pushed the button, and there was only one message.

  
"Dear dear, where are your manners? Such a self-guarded beauty, tsk tsk. Maybe we go for Uptown pizza sometime eh, devotchka? I think you are better than this, but you go enjoy your wine in the meantime, you follow human nature perfectly. Maybe you learn a different version of human nature with me soon."  
…"deep exhale"… *click*

  
"It's him again!" Jill's eyes were wide, and she felt a building anxiety creeping in. Interestingly, this was quickly replaced by excitement. Something about this mystery man's words struck her, because he was right. She was better than this. Forget that he knew she was predictable in personal situations. Point is, he seemed to be trying to guide her to a better version of herself, despite being a potentially dangerous stalker. She already knew that if he wanted to hurt her, he absolutely could and would have done so already, most likely. If anything, to Jill this was the perfect distraction, and she loves a good mystery.

  
She gently placed the wine in the trash, took a shower, and pampered her skin and face.  
"Tomorrow, maybe I'll finally use that cream he left me." She suddenly had a paranoid thought that the cream was poison or possibly laced with something like DMSO, that soaks through the skin. She remembered a senior officer telling her a story of an incident in the seventies, involving a maniac lacing DMSO with LSD, and brushing it on the handles of cop cars, resulting in one of the most horrific nights Raccoon City had ever seen.

She smiled at herself in the mirror as she styled her hair. "Nah, haha--"  
"Fuck human nature, I'm an animal now. A wolf, yeah. Yeah!"  
She bared her teeth in the mirror, and let out a playful laugh.  
Jill felt like a curious, risk-taking teenager again, just like that.  
She laid down, and let her daydreams carry her off into the comfort of sleep.  
"I hope he's cute... " she thought.

  
_________________________________

"You good, Claire? I'm not touching this car door, or steering wheel for the rest of the night, so..."   
"Yeah bro, let's get just get the hell outta this Jeep already, I'm *so* tired."  
It felt like the longest ride home either of them had ever experienced, no doubt extended and warped by their bent emotions.

  
Chris and Claire headed for the door. Claire was smart to stay behind Chris, as she was now missing her house key, thanks to Captain Wesker.  
As soon as Chris unlocked the door, Claire was almost pushing past him, crowding him in the doorway.  
"Jeez, gimme a sec Claire. Alright, brats first!"  
Chris moved out of her way, and she quickly strode to her room, or rather the guest room.  
She removed her coat and carefully placed it on her bed, rather than the closet, as the presents Wesker gave her were inside.  
Grabbing a change of clothes and placing them on the chair, she undressed, putting her filthy clothes from today in a plastic bag, placing them in the corner out of the way to wash them later.

  
She put her robe on, and grabbed her backup feminine products from her resident storage box she keeps here, heading into the bathroom to take a calming, superbly cleansing shower befitting of a queen.

  
Only, Claire would have to do all the work, of course.  
That didn't stop her mind from wandering to thoughts of Captain Wesker giving her a hand, and maybe a few other things as well...  
Claire didn't even realize how long she'd been standing there fantasizing, she was like a robot that'd been switched off during sex mode, only able to process visuals.

  
Meanwhile, Chris was in the kitchen waiting patiently because he needed to get into the bathroom. He wondered to himself if Rebecca was okay, and wrote down a reminder note to check in on her soon.  
He rolled his eyes realizing that he'd secretly hoped Chief Irons had just died from Rebecca's mistake.   
"Shit. I guess I better check on him too. Don't wanna come off as uncaring, but that guy truly is just a fuckin' scumbag."

Chris penned another reminder down, noting to contact Forest first since the poor guy spent the whole afternoon by Irons' side without pay.   
Of course, it's even worse than Chris could imagine at this stage. Irons is actually worse than any of them could imagine.   
He's exactly the type of criminal that the S.T.A.R.S. should be hunting down, not working for!

  
________________________________

Albert Wesker drove through the perilous streets of Raccoon City with ease. He enjoyed such an opportunity. He relished in every chance that he got to remain calm during a tense situation. One could wonder if it really was just training to him, or just his natural way of life.

  
He saw this evening's venture as an extended therapy session after the events of the day, although he more so needed to come down from a high, rather than be relieved of tension like most people. He breathed in all of the silence, taking in the beautiful icy scenery as he did so.  
The streets were practically barren, yet curiously the shops remained open.

  
He took note of a classic, old-fashioned neon sign up ahead: D'lish Doughnuts.  
Wesker immediately acknowledged that he was intrigued by the archaic English mix with modern lingo forming the word D'lish, and the spelling of doughnuts was correct, and carefully turned into the parking lot. Putting the car in park, he wondered why he was really here.

  
He looked ahead and saw a colorful poster that read: 'Winner of the Kite Bros. Railway 'Dessert For Breakfast' Contest!'  
Somewhat bizarrely, the word 'Winner' made him think of Claire, and he remembered that she didn't have any doughnuts that morning, or dessert after her lunch in the office.   
He thought about the fact that the poor girl was absolutely hammered upon by life today, and found himself feeling something like a savior, albeit a somewhat demented one.

  
He then began to feel odd, understanding that he may not be as cold inside as he's been trained, or believes himself to be. He definitely wouldn't be telling anyone about the fact that he drank the rest of Claire's Cherry Koke, ate the fruit slices, or...felt an unfamiliar endearment as he cleaned up the mess she'd left behind…yeah. Was he really feeling this way, or was he just being manipulative again? Did he play the part so well that he'd fooled himself, too?

  
In any case, he'd stopped in here, and he may as well pick up some doughnuts for the Redfield siblings.   
That's right, siblings-- he remembered. Why couldn't he concentrate, he wondered. For the first time in a long time, Albert Wesker found himself feeling uncertain.  
"Chris, I look forward to what's about to unfold, though for once, I've no idea at the outcome. It's absolutely thrilling me to my core." he whispered to himself.

  
Wesker thought for just a moment, about how he has everything, yet somehow nothing to lose all the same. This thought only served to thrill him even more. It was the uncertainty of the situation, no doubt. His plans are always perfectly executed, but this plan was totally chaotic and could yield unpredictable results. 

For some reason, then Jill came into his mind. He wondered what she would think, as he considered her to be his equal on many levels. He'd never tell anyone this, but he saw Jill as an extraordinary woman, more than capable of holding her own, as she once took him down with her bare hands in the gym. He remembered how she spared his pride, too.  
"Captain, I think I had too much coffee before we started, please don't tell anyone about this, I don't want anyone to think I'm some kinda barbarian or something! Oh please, Wesker please, you have to keep this between us!"

  
He held a genuine smile while recalling this. Then it occurred to him why he was thinking of Jill.  
"I'll protect you from what's to happen, my little… barbarian."

  
it's amazing how one incident of spared pride can lead to this. No one but Wesker will ever know why he pretty much lets Jill do whatever she likes, and it's mostly because he knows she'd never tell anyone about that day. The day that a new female recruit absolutely kicked his ass with ease. The office of course spreads rumors, but it's of no concern as they'll never know the truth anyway.

  
In a rare moment, he genuinely laughed to himself, thinking about how Jill Valentine was probably the one true 'Best Man.'  
He turned the car off, and got out.

  
Upon entry, he noticed a big sign to his right. A large cardboard cutout of a cowgirl, dangling donuts off of the barrels of her revolvers. He thought about the absurdity of someone with such a small frame firing such a powerful gun in each hand. There was a special Wild West themed dozen for sale, and Wesker suddenly had his belief in fate ignited to full capacity.  
He proudly bought two dozen, hurried out, and embarked on his way to deliver them to the Redfield siblings.

  
Upon pulling up into their neighborhood, he relaxed himself in preparation for his drop-off visit. He pulled into the driveway, parking bumper to bumper with Chris' Jeep.  
Stepping out, he went to the passenger side to carefully retrieve his kind offering, as well as his work briefcase.

  
He suddenly heard loud, blood-curdling screams as he approached the door. He hurriedly began knocking, only to realize that there was a movie playing inside, made all the more evident by Chris opening the door. Some cheesy horror movie, the type where a large hybrid or otherworldly creature has a woman in hysterics.

  
"Captain, hey! You wanna chill for a bit? There's hot wings and beer, and oh, uh, sorry, I mean please come in."   
Wesker could tell that Chris was feeling quite tipsy, but he wasn't surprised after the day they'd had. He thought to himself about actually staying, but he still had urgent business with William after this. "Right, as if I've the time for anything casual on a day like today" he inwardly reminded himself. Chris headed towards to kitchen table, waving his hand for Wesker to join him.

  
As Wesker stepped inside, he spotted Claire, and she was completely passed out cold on the couch. On her side with her knees tucked up, hands under her head. He quietly closed the front door so as not to disturb her. 

  
Suddenly, there was a heavy sound of a machine gunfire burst coming from the television, and Claire startled, causing her to change her position to cozying up facing the backrest of the couch. She didn't even know that Wesker was right there behind her, in that moment. She was blissfully unaware that she was being observed as she slept. Wesker spotted a hole in her pajamas, on the left buttock. 

  
He took a risk, and grabbed an afghan quilt off of the nearby chair, covering her up. She remained asleep, her decency now protected.  
Chris was watching from the kitchen with his beer in hand, drunkenly contemplating why his Captain was dawdling around his sister for so long. 

  
Wesker headed over to Chris quietly, placing the doughnuts on the table, followed by his briefcase. He knew that look anywhere, from his police work: The 'gears slowly turning' look that people under intoxication often express when they're trying to think about an unforseen scenario or circumstance. Fortunately for Wesker, people in that state are easily manipulated out of having to think.  
He then spoke softly, saying "Chris, you'll forgive me, but your sister could catch deathly cold if she's not covered up, can you not feel the draft in the living room quarters?"

  
Chris looked concerned, followed by apologetic. He was apparently more intoxicated than Wesker thought. "Captain, oh shit, I mean wow, uh thanks. I really owe ya, uh you shure ya can't stay? Could use a… *ahum* hot… babysitter tonight, will you, haha, ya know, hmmm-- cover me up too, captain? Gim, maybe gimme a kiss on the cheek?" Chris made a dreamy face, looking up while clutching his beer to his chest.  
Chris wasn't joking.

Wesker was so caught off guard, yet intrigued by his 'best man' seemingly drunkenly coming on to him in this scenario since he was so short on time, and thankfully he already knew to choose his response carefully. All he could do was observe this moment with a somewhat blank expression. Wesker was not the type to be defined, as discovered by himself through his many meditations, meaning, Albert Wesker considered himself part of 'The All' and was not restricted to a linear path of self exploration or self expression, despite how he chooses to represent himself to the public.

  
He'd felt drawn to Chris' soul, the very first time they met, and always sought to discover why, due to them being so different in nature. He understood that there was meaning in it, but such a journey is difficult to pursue in an earthly manner. There was no 'straight, bi, or gay' for Albert. There were only souls. So many souls, far more beautiful than the meatsuits that encase them could ever hope to achieve.

Albert Wesker was not to be swayed or deceived by physical appearance alone, so he really is one of the most unique men to walk this planet, as if he really was a gift from the gods themselves. This theme was common in everyone he interacted with, friend or foe. Albert Wesker always leaves people imprinted with the feeling they've experienced something mysterious and otherworldly.

  
Wesker stepped around to Chris, taking his gloves off as he did so. Chris' eyes widened, and he looked incredibly nervous, given that he'd sort of realized what he'd just said to his Captain, now forever changing the atmosphere between them.

The gears kept turning for Chris, realizing that he'd often felt uncomfortable around Wesker during their one on one time because unlike Wesker, Chris had spent most of his life in complete denial, given his life circumstances of having to be a young parent and role model to his sister. Chris was a tough man always surviving through even tougher times, making it all the more difficult to express his sensitive desires, especially in such a sometimes negatively sensitive society.

  
Wesker took his moment, and asked Chris an ice-breaker of a question, albeit not what you'd expect in such an emotional moment.  
"Chris, do you believe in the concept of karma?"  
Chris was beside himself at such a strange question, but his inebriation allowed him to just express his feelings without holding back anymore. This whole day has been so strange for him anyway, so he answered honestly, and in a low tone.  
"N, no Captain, I don't."  
"I see. Care to explain why?"

  
"Cuz, it's, well it's because bad fuckin' people like the Chief always continue to do bad things and jus' get away with it, and people like me and Claire are always tryin'ta claw our way outta hell no matter how good we are... Why's it like that Captain? Karma is a buncha bullshit to me, don't mean a fuckin' thing!"  
Chris looked sullen. Wesker got his answer, and was incredibly satisfied.  
Albert tossed his gloves down on the table, and embraced Chris firmly. 

  
Wesker now knew -- Chris was no simple man. He was a strong-willed, complex man thrust into unfair circumstances, surrounded by chains that became locked over time. Chains that Wesker was going to break him out of. Wesker's game just took yet another unforseen turn, and he was again thrilled beyond what he expected.

  
Chris Redfield, Mr. tough guy, was now quietly sobbing into his Captain's lapel. Wesker bowed his head down to Chris's ear, and softly whispered, "You and I can make a difference in this unfair game, Chris. Together."

  
Chris lifted his head, his eyes teary and gleaming. His breath strong with alcohol.  
"Captain, what the fuck are we doing? You ain't gonna deck me now are ya, haha!? Is this real?" Chris whispered as he looked around the kitchen. With Chris's head turned, Wesker firmly planted his lips upon Chris's muscular, pronounced neck. He gently opened his mouth, drawing his teeth softly along the firm skin, down to his shoulder. Chris felt an erection swelling immediately.

  
Suddenly, they heard a loud, obnoxious yawning coming from the living room. Both men stiffened up and righted themselves at the table, Wesker snapping into action.  
"So as I said before, you're to return these no later than one week from tomorrow, Chris." Wesker stated while opening his briefcase.  
"Yep, uh you got it sir. *hic*"

  
Chris quickly snatched up the papers, and used them to conceal his now painfully swollen erection.  
After a few tense moments, Claire emerged from the couch, and headed for the kitchen in a sluggish manner. She was immediately awake however, the moment she realized that Albert was standing there.

  
"Hey guys, what's going on? You gonna have your boss over, bro?"  
"Nah Claire, the captain's just droppin' off my papers. Look, he brought us doughnuts, too." Chris uttered his words in a nervous, slightly disappointed tone, which caused some confusion in his blissfully unaware sister.  
Wesker was disappointed as well, because he must be on his way, and this evening had potential now that both Redfields were present.

Claire's eyes widened when she saw the limited edition treats on the table. She couldn't help herself becoming noticeably excited, it was just like when her father would bring doughnuts home on a Sunday morning. This only furthered her attachment to Wesker, because he's now triggered something deep within her psyche, something she's blocked out for a long time.

He noticed right away, the look and vibes that Claire was expressing. "Bullseye." he thought to himself. He also took note that Claire was doing a very poor job of hiding her excitement regarding his presence.  
Smiling, Wesker looked at them, extended each arm out to them and patted them on the shoulders simultaneously. It was an understatement to say this was awkward.

  
"I'll be off now. You two take care, and enjoy your evening. I'll be in touch, Chris. Goodnight Miss Redfield, always a pleasure."

  
"Wow, thanks so much Captain Wesker!" Claire was beaming with excitement, while Chris felt like his whole night was somehow made and ruined at the same time.

He did not want to spend the night hanging out with Claire, who's suddenly bubbly attitude wasn't something he could keep up with right now. He also became suspicious of it, since she was always a rude mega-grouch right when she wakes up.  
"Thanks again, Captain. I'll see ya later."

  
Chris wanted so badly to kiss those lips, and run his hands over Wesker's perfectly sculpted, plump ass. He never would have even dreamed such a thing could be possible, and he now had it in his grasp. Well, almost!  
But right now, all Chris wanted to do was finish his beers in his room and pass out...after taking care of a certain lingering desire, that is.

  
Wesker snatched up his gloves and briefcase, heading briskly toward the door, letting himself out. Claire grabbed a whole box of the prized doughnuts, and carted them off to her room, humming to herself without a care in the world. Chris didn't have another moment to wonder why Claire was being so chipper, and quickly took his chance, practically chasing Wesker outside, catching him right before he was about to sit down in his car.

  
Neither of them uttered a word, both men locked into each other like a jigsaw puzzle, and this moment was so utterly uncharacteristic of the both of them. You couldn't get more out of character, and yet--  
Here they were; Chris was living his current dream, while Wesker was planning his upcoming nightmare.  
Luckily for them, Chris's nosy neighbors were all shut inside their homes due to the weather, leaving this moment a guarded secret.

They said nothing as they parted ways, and Chris realizes something. Wesker wasn't wearing his sunglasses, not even when he arrived. Chris was too inebriated to focus on the details anymore, but he actually pinched himself before heading back inside and off to his bedroom. He had to make sure that for once, the universe was having mercy upon him.

  
Claire sat on her bed, observing all the things Wesker gave to her today. No one could convince her that he wasn't the greatest man in the world right now, not while she was in this stage of curiosity coupled with infatuation. In her excitement, she wants to know what's in the little box.

She shakes the thought from her mind, and grabs a doughnut out of the pretty cowgirl box. "He bought these because of me, oh my god. I want him. I'll... I'll do anything to keep him..." She hides the box in the closet, and places the cologne bottle on the nightstand. She'll just say she found it in the snow if Chris decides to go snooping.  
A dangerous storm is brewing in the Redfield residence.

  
____________________________

  
It was a long drive to Swallowtail Bar because of the ice, and Wesker had plenty to contemplate on his way there.  
He thought it strange that he actually enjoyed himself, given that someday everyone will be forced to realize that the man they know and work with isn't who they were groomed to believe he was at all. Part of him hoped that it wouldn't matter in the end, that they could somehow look past their emotions, and embrace the unknown. Embrace his vision for a new world.

Just once, he wants to lay the burden of proof upon others, making them prove that they are beyond just basic, predictable, and the ever so tiresome common human reaction. Wesker's world was almost always a lonely one, and it's a good thing his best friend is solitude, because a normal human would absolutely die inside.

  
He ultimately knows one thing: He's going to enjoy it to the fullest, now that he's experienced a taste of the unknown for himself.  
He felt a twinge of something, he didn't quite understand it but it made him feel aroused, and there was a touch of sadism in there. It was so good, to just allow himself to feel things for once.

  
He pulled into the tiny parking lot across the street, and immediately noticed that William's beat up Pinto was nowhere in sight. His jaw began to tighten, as he checked his watch. "You absolute cretin, it's 11:11."  
Wesker was a bit late himself, but he already knew that William would probably be much later.  
He carefully made his way across the street, careful to not dampen his leather shoes too much while stepping over the plowed piles of snow.

Inside, he was greeted by Dmitry, the same bartender that's been serving him for years.  
He gave a respectful nod, and took a seat at his usual booth in the back, next to the aquarium.  
There was large shark sculpture in the tank, which William made a huge deal about because of the Neptune project. William refuses to sit anywhere else, and Dmitry keeps the spot clear from anyone else sitting there after 11pm.

  
Wesker knows that it's better to just let William have his fun, but only to a certain point. He wasn't going to be having much fun tonight if he didn't tell Wesker exactly what he wanted to hear, that's for sure.  
Not only that, but the clock is ticking. He ordered a shot of Talisker and downed it immediately to ease his sudden tension. William didn't respect his instructions to be punctual, so he wasn't going to be waiting to order like he's being stood up by a date.

  
Just as Wesker decided he was about to get up and make his way to the payphone, William strolled in and flopped his messenger bag onto their table, looking flushed and sweaty. "A, Albert oh my god I'm going to die!"

  
Wesker rolled his eyes. "Allow me to guess, you lost at tabletop games again? Hmph."  
"NO, Albert, no. I had to *cough* push my fucking car after it got stuck, by myself, thank you! I only slipped and fell once though, so... Anyway, I'm sorry I'm late, but I couldn't walk in that shit and I don't expect you to have to drive me back to my car after this. I was being considerate, but of course it looks like I was just being an irresponsible asshole. For your information, I haven't played D&A since college, ya prick."

  
"I'll accept your tardiness, William. This time." Wesker shook his head and chuckled a bit, seeing William in this state amused him, and he was more relaxed now that the whiskey was taking effect.  
"So uh, what're we doing here tonight, Albert? You slammed the phone so hard on the voicemail, that Annette heard it all the way from the breakroom. So what the fuck did I do this time, wear mismatched socks?" William looked a bit nervous despite his joking.

"It's about coffee, William. Specifically, your need to be an obnoxious crybaby at a certain mainstream establishment near my *other* place of employment…"

  
"Oh. So uh, how'd you know, Albert?" 

  
"I know, because two of my officers informed me of a whiny manchild fitting your description, screeching about the inferiority of his coffee. Or was that 'impurities' of his coffee? I only know one person in Raccoon City who uses those types of words in reference to beverages, William.

Perhaps you can see my predicament here, because it wasn't just any ordinary officers that took notice of you, it was Jill Valentine, and Barry Burton. Had you just accepted your order like an adult, we wouldn't be here right now. If we're ever seen together, questions will no doubt arise, William, especially now that Jill has seen you."

  
"Oh my god, Albert. I missed my chance to see Jill in person!? Augh, I'm such a fucking moron!" William slapped his messenger bag.

Wesker glared at William so intensely that it darkened the atmosphere of the entire bar. Even Dmitry felt it, and carried some dishes into the kitchen to get away from the vibes.

  
William hung his head, and let out a weak sigh. "Albert, I'm just so sorry. I've been so busy lately, I haven't been sleeping or eating well, Annette has been up my ass about deadlines, Sherry is driving me nuts, and well, it's all no excuse, I know. I'm so sorry, truly. I'm not trying to sabotage our projects or relationship, and I don't expect you to forgive me, but Albert I'm still glad to see you, regardless of the reason."

  
William looked somewhat sad. He really was feeling overwhelmed lately, and Wesker was the only friend he had, the only one who understands him, and his ...bizarre preferences.

  
"It's alright, William." Wesker exhaled, nodding his head.  
Wesker knew that William would be an absolutely stellar scientist, if he didn't have so many other obligations, none of which Wesker has to deal with. He was originally just going to chew William out, and call it a night, but he decided to do something unexpected instead. He could see that William just needed to unwind, and this was the only chance he would get for a while.

  
"William, do fetch Dmitry. Order anything you like, and request some rare steak for me, would you? It's on me, everything. We're going to do some catching up tonight, dear friend."

  
William's eyes lit up, and he practically fell over as he stumbled toward the bar from all of the excitement.  
He was thrilled, getting to have a guy's night out with his only friend. William ordered plenty of drinks and food, including his favorite -- country breaded chicken tenders with ranch, and made his way back to the table to wait.   
"How fucking cool is this, Albert!? There's no one here but us. So um, did Jill really say I was a manchild, or are you just messing with me?" William laughed, while rubbing the back of his head.

  
"It was Barry, actually. That man has no filter, and it honestly amuses me. I'd like to have him on our team." Wesker was loosening up even more from the scotch.  
"Oh yeah, well fuck that guy, I'll punch him right in the nuts! I'll impress Jill, too!" William made a fist and gritted his teeth.  
"Cheap shots, William? My god you're so predictable, haha. Might I remind you that you're married, *Mr* Birkin? Oh, and as far as Miss Valentine is concerned -- dream on. She doesn't like anybody that way. She's an absolute anomaly. If she's seeing someone, then she's the master of secrecy. In fact, we could use her on our team as well."

  
"Oh I'd love that, Albert. She's such a cutie pie."  
Wesker cringed at Will's comment. "Goodness William, how you can go from extreme expletives, to child vocabulary tiered terms is unnerving. Sherry really must be grinding you down after all."  
"Yeah well, maybe you should hire her too. You don't even know, Albert.

She's an absolute monster when she gets riled up. I took a nap on the couch in the rec room once last week, thought I was gonna get some rest? NO! Outta nowhere, here I thought a Hunter had escaped and slashed my head open! Turns out, Sherry threw a die cast toy helicopter across the room, and it hit me right in the back of the head. Why the fuck are children's toys made out of heavy metal like that anyway? God!"

  
Wesker began chuckling, and took notice of Dmitry bringing their food to the table. "I hope you're hungry, food's arrived."  
Will's flustered expression was replaced by joy, and he began rubbing his hands together in anticipation.  
Over plenty of eating and drinking, Albert and William finally felt as though they were caught up on each other's current affairs, although Albert said nothing about Chris, or Claire. No, that was something that needed careful crafting, should it come into play correctly.

Just as Albert was about to suggest wrapping up their evening, William started on about a chemistry BBS forum that he frequented daily.

  
"So, ohoho I gotta tell you about this, Albert. There's this other user, 'botanybombshell18'? Well, there's no way she's eighteen, I'll say that. She's been trolling us for weeks, acting like she's some teenaged prodigy, miss know-it-all chemist. What an attitude, too. Hell, she's prob'ly an old guy! Anyway, if she comes on again, I'm gonna call her ass out and tell her to post a picture. She hasn't replied to me this last time, so I suspect I've shown her who's boss!"

  
Wesker raised an eyebrow, because this was sounding a little too familiar. He couldn't possibly be talking about Rebecca Chambers, could he? If so, Wesker only found himself amused, given that it was likely that William was the one who was getting his ass kicked. "Well, I'm sure that it's just some senior prank, William. I wouldn't read too much into such things. I think of the internet as a sort of game, myself."

  
"Yeah, haha. I can't picture you chatting people up online, Albert. Imagining you picking a username on Y! chat, just no, haha. In any case, I'm gonna check out soon, I think. Pretty tired, but now I feel like myself again. Thanks Albert, I really appreciate all of this, what you did."

  
"It's no trouble, William. Just promise me you'll stay away from any establishments above ground near the precinct from now on, would you?"  
"You got it, Albert. Let's be off, shall we? Annette will probably have an earful for me anyway, better get back."

  
The two headed to the register, with Wesker giving Dmitry a one-hundred dollar tip for always being so accommodating. They said their goodbyes and thanks, and headed out into the brisk winter air.  
Before Wesker unlocked his car, he turned to William.

  
"Ghostbutterfly1337."

  
"Haha, what's that, Albert?"  
"You heard me, William. It's my screen name."

  
"Ahahaha, you're fucking pulling my leg, haha!"  
Wesker crossed his arms and pursed his lips.  
"Add me sometime, William. I'll be in touch soon, goodnight."

  
Wesker sat in his car, watching William drive away.  
He looked down at his ring of keys, and stared at Claire's house key. Or should he call it Chris's?  
"Perhaps I'll call it the 'Redfield' key."  
Wesker smiled in a most devious manner, and finally decided it was time to rest his head. He had a lot of manipulation to work with, after all.

  
__________________

  
*** 

My apologies for the long period between updates, I appreciate your patience, and I thank you for reading! Things are going to get kinda crazy from here on out though. What's Wesker's deal, anyway? Does he actually have a heart, or is he just playing a strange game with the Redfield's emotions? 

Take care of yourselves!

Massive thanks to a special someone who doesn't want credit -- they helped me clean up the tags and summary. *big hugs to mystery man*

***


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